


X

by girlxwords



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bondage, Coffee Shops, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Getting to Know Each Other, Japanese Rope Bondage, M/M, My First Smut, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, Rope Bondage, Shameless Smut, Shibari, Slow Burn, Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 23:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlxwords/pseuds/girlxwords
Summary: Finder Series AU. Mostly delving on first impressions, relationships, sex, and all the wonderful chaos of Asami and Akihito.This is my first time to write fanfic or anything this.. raunchy.





	1. It Takes One Moment

**Author's Note:**

> After years and years of reading so many wonderful, delicious fics, stories, and pairings here, I'm giving it a try. 
> 
> There will be characters I made up, personalities I'd like some to have, settings I may take from the manga and/or other stories I've read - please let me know and I'll credit properly!
> 
> It's a working title! I'm not totally sold on it. 
> 
> _Finder series by the amazing Yamane Ayano._
> 
> Comments, reviews and reactions appreciated! Please be kind.
> 
>  
> 
> _/ 04 March 2018_

 

> **_"If two people love each other.. really love each other, but they just can't seem to get it together, when do you get to that point of enough is enough?"_** _she asked._
> 
> __
> 
> **“Never."** he answered firmly.
> 
>  __
> 
>  _// The Mexican (2001)_

_**01/ It Takes One Moment** _

He had entered the coffee shop on a whim. Why in the world would he set foot inside a shop he doesn't go to? Heck, the last coffee shop he's been to was probably more than five years ago in Milan, when he had to make his rounds to powerful figures he'd want on his side. It was that, or pay the consequences of compromising his businesses and ambitions.

His mouth set in a hard line, eyebrows drawing together with the memory. He had gone and played under the unspoken bureaucracy of people wanting exclusive power and territory. He actually had both and more in his own country with no army, at his part of the globe, but establishing his stronghold and name didn't mean anything to him. He wanted more and that meant playing nice.

Asami Ryuichi, with all intents and purposes, and the word 'nice' were never in the same sentence, let alone the same breath.

He brushed away his always too long midnight hair from his forehead to the slicked back style he wore whenever in public. Errant strands still fell forward giving the powerful man an imperfection to his distinctly coordinated look. It made him look too attractive, this imperfection.

"Good morning! Welcome to Cup, what'll it be today?" A warm voice called as the scent of freshly ground coffee wrapped around him the instant he opened the door.

A midnight eyebrow rose, his face unmoving as his golden eyes swept through the space and ended on the three menu boards overhead the counter. The door opened wider as he stepped forward and out of the way, knowing who it'd be.

"If you had wanted coffee, Ichi," a voice spoke slowly behind him. "You should have told me. We have Blue Bottle and that Godiva you like."

Golden eyes lazily looked back to his long time friend and right-hand man, Kirishima Kei. "Back to calling me that name, Kei?"

"Why not," he said, green eyes reading the offerings of the coffee house, his lips lifting to a smirk. "Calling you 'Asami-sama' most of my waking moments, not that I'm complaining, is a mouthful. Kami feels the same way, you know."

He was pertaining to the tycoon's left-hand man and chief of security and operations, Suoh Kazumi.

"Kei," a quiet voice was heard behind the two tall men crowding the entrance of Cup X otherwise known as ‘Cup,’ an arrogantly avantgarde, trendy coffee shop at the heart of bustling Shinjuku, just a few blocks from their destination.

The second man slightly startled but it wasn't lost to the other two which put a wicked gleam in their eyes. "Kami, Jesus!" he hissed. "Make more noise, for the love of.."

"Stripteaccino," Suoh had uttered the word and left the two men who had widened their eyes and erupted in snickers.

"What'll it be, guys?"

Kirishima turned to the counter, shaking his head, still snickering. He couldn't believe his giant of a friend said the word. "Hold on," he said to the young barista then gave the menu board one more sweep. "Fifty Shades, regular, iced."

Asami raised his eyebrow at his trustworthy right-hand man who had moved to the side with a flourish and an evil grin.

"What'll _you_ have, Ichi?" Kirishima asked, his eyes alight in mischief, waiting for him to order as well as Suoh's.

"Eyes Wide Shut, large, extra hot." He drawled out and turned to the counter.

Sparkling light hazel eyes, widened as it met his gaze. "Regular Fifty Shades on ice and a large Eyes Wide Shut, extra hot." The voice was spoken clearly but quietly, nothing like the warm volume that called out the greeting earlier. "Anything else? How about a Flat Handmaiden?"

"Stripteaccino, regular, iced." Asami answered, unable to see anything else but the light-colored eyes in front of him, even though he could hear Kirishima chuckling at his side. Light eyes on fair skin that's almost transluscent combined with an exaggerated asymmetrical haircut of ash blond hair gave Asami the idea the person in front of him was ethereal and unreal at the same time. Coupled with the cafe’s bold uniform, it was too distracting, eye-catching, and Asami be damned as he felt stirrings slowly heat up his lower gut.

The light eyes seem to twinkle even more. "Nothing to go with the hardcore drinks?" An eyebrow rose, daringly.

Asami’s lips started lifting and he found himself engaging with the light-eyed boy, despite himself. "What would you recommend?" He saw a pink tongue as white teeth chewed on a delectable lower lip before it turned away to glance at the menu board behind him.

"Hmm, a personal fave is the Love-wich. Sunny side up eggs, bacon, ham, tomato, lettuce and cheese crammed between yummy brioche loaf slices, which we make our own. It's big and messy but very filling. There's the Showgirl bun which is basically a mushroom, spinach and cheese omelet forced into a sweet bun. The Quillssant is quite popular though. Too much ham and cheese stuffed in a large pretty croissant." The light-eyed boy turned back and waited.

Asami found himself staring at the boy who openly stared back.

"A Quillssant and Showgirl."

It was Kirishima who spoke up, his mouth watering with the simple explanation.

He had to clear his throat as he realized his boss and long-time friend hasn't moved or said anything. "Get us all three, to go."

Light eyes blinked and looked to Asami's right. A small shake of the head, bringing the asymmetrical cut lower, covering more of the light eyes. "Ah.." he cleared his throat and smiled openly. "Good choice. Love, Quills and Showgirl to go. That'll be 9,800."

Asami was still staring when Kirishima cleared his throat a second time, loudly. "Here," he waved a black card in front of the card terminal and slipped a bill to the glass tip jar that was brimming with money.

"Name?"

Kirishima looked up from being amazed at the amount of money crammed inside the jar. He saw that the question wasn't directed to him but at the tall silent staring man in front of the light-eyed boy.

It seemed like Kirishima looked back and forth between Asami and the boy standing behind the counter a dozen times, his eyebrows raised.

"Ryuichi."

Kirishima's eyebrows rose even higher.

"Alright, you can pick up your orders to the left when you hear your name called."

Asami's eyebrows drew together, displeased. He felt, which was a surprise to the powerful man, disappointed and promptly dismissed. He had been waiting for the boy to call him by his name.

"Good morning, what'll you have today?" The boy said warmly, looking past his shoulders.

Dismissed alright.

\---

The coffee was dark, smooth, and strong, exactly what he needed that morning. Stopping at the tastefully decorated avant-garde coffeeshop before heading up to his office was a mere whim. He passed it regularly for the past few months since it opened. Asami couldn't pinpoint what made him stop.

Cup X or just ‘Cup’ was your usual coffeeshop enclosed by glass from the sidewalk. What was evidently not usual was how its large glass windows teased the on-looker with its avantgarde theme. Different types, lengths, and expertly styled chains, leather cuffs, ropes, and wooden contraptions were on full display for its patrons, hanging by its ceiling and artfully displayed on its high walls. The menu boards were large and dark, highlighting its themed contents of x-rated films above the counter that was all steel and symmetric. Its workers though had exaggerated asymmetrical hair styles on top of wearing simple but fitted black ensemble of shirts and jeans, accessorized by Cup X's signature leather cuffs with two steel enclosure chains on their necks, and both wrists.

It was intriguing to say the least. Asami noted their aprons were a deep maroon color and served as the only accent in the steel, wood, black, leather atmosphere and complemented the Cup X sign, tastefully small outside the shop. Large dark-colored wooden tables with smaller square steel tables were intentionally askew across the shop but sat thirty-five customers comfortably. The only thing out of place was the hiss of the coffee machine, its aroma, and the mellow coffeeshop soundtrack playing subtlety in the background. Even the coffeeshop bustle and sounds were quieter compared to the rare hole in the wall coffeeshop.

Drinks and food in the risqué coffeeshop were too delicious and forgivably priced higher. It didn't matter though. Food usually sold out before sunset and due to orders and foot traffic to its location, there were three shifts of four personnel in a day, excluding two shifts for the shop's manager. Young workers, middle managers, supervisors, and the occasional director welcomed the stark contrast of its theme and service. Now, Cup X can boast that Asami Ryuichi, who was Tokyo's and most probably Japan's overlord, was its patron.

"Ryuichi, huh." Suoh's brown blond eyebrow rose.

Golden eyes were hidden between sooty lashes that were looking at its drink.

Kirishima took a sip from his cup and relished at how smooth the coffee drink felt. "This is good."

Two heads nodded in agreement.

"So, do we fancy the boy?"

Golden eyes took too long to look up at curious green eyes. "You do know that you're being annoying, right." Asami said it lightly.

Suoh sipped his drink, looking away. Kirishima, however, caught the corner of the giant's mouth turned up though. "Oh, whatever, sunshine," he dismissed the comment of one of the most powerful figures in the country, knowing that only he and the silent man near them could do it. "Are we interested in this boy, Ichi?"

Asami looked to the counter that was manned by the most intriguing specimen of a boy. He was too beautiful and too eye-catching with the leather cuffs, very much at ease at the lifestyle-themed coffeeshop. He didn't know what hit him, only knowing he wanted the boy in a more primal, instinctive sense.

"Love, Quills and Showgirl for Ryuichi." Called a different voice, deep and booming, which irked the tycoon.

"Ah, well, good hunting, Ichi," Kirishima said while chuckling. He picked up the sandwiches by the counter and proceeded to head out.

"Kami, card."

Suoh instantly handed over a black business card to Asami. It was his logo on one side and it had one number and name on the other side.

He walked to the now empty counter and saw the boy turn around and started working on whatever they do in coffeeshops. As he approached, he was wondering all sorts of things to do with the blond. Maybe he can tie him up, _shibari_ style, elevate him to appreciate a full view of skin and rope. Soft and hard. His black ropes would be a good contrast to the creamy translucent skin. Or even the custom-made red one he hadn’t the time to try yet. Come to think about it, chaining him with darker cuffs and a colllar sounds about right as well.

"..sir? Sir, can I help you?"

Asami shook his head slightly but looked at the boy straight in the eye. "The coffee is very good." He said slowly, suddenly at a loss on how to hand the boy his name card.

Light eyes perked up as the boy smiled. Asami had to blink. "Thank you, do come again."

The tall businessman was really quite feeling dismissed. "It'll be wonderful if I see you again." He said, golden eyes boring into light ones which widened in surprise.

The boy gave a startled small laugh but before he could say anything, Asami slid over his card near the boy's fingertips that rested on the steel counter. "If you'd like." He said smoothly then turned to exit after giving a small nod, not bothering to wait for a reply. He could actually feel his ears burning.

Suoh gaped at his boss.. at what just happened, brown eyes looking at the back of his friend and the equally speechless and gaping boy by the counter. He was surprised when the light eyes turned to him.

"Please give this back." It was quiet but his eyes were gleaming and determined.

Suoh took a sip of his drink, raised his eyebrow and proceeded to follow Asami. "He doesn't do that."

The boy's eyebrows drew together, puzzled, his arms outstretched, urging the giant in a suit to take back the black and gold card.

He was given a small nod and they were gone.

The boy looked at the black card in his hands.

"Another one, Aki?" It was his foreign coworker, Dan, who approached having witnessed the latter end of the scene.

He shrugged. "Guess so," he said. "Feels different though. Not like those past crazies."

"Ah, Aki, there's something about crazies and you." Dan warned with the familiarity of someone who knew. "Remember your exes? They seem sane and average but turned out to be quite deranged. There's probably some bad curse on you to be attracting those types."

"Dan! Don't bully Aki!" A female voice warned from the kitchen.

"I'm not, honey, it's just that another one passed his name card to Aki." Dan said, heading back to the service window that connects to the kitchen.

"Well, if Aki's interested, then let him decide on his own."

"Thank you, Gracey," the boy said, humor laced in his voice.

"Oh, hush, Aki," Grace peeked forward the window, smiling. "We're grateful for your help in the shop. Me and Dan are still screening some interested people. It's so hard to convince the young to change hairstyles for work. I don't know what the boss is thinking." Blue eyes rolled but they were sparkling.

"Ah, well," the boy played with his hair. "I don't mind, it's kinda cool."

"The boss is a weirdo, too," Dan warned.

"Honey, everyone's a weirdo for you,” the woman said, laughing while retreating to the kitchen.

 _Asami Ryuichi_ , thought Akihito, looking at the elegant black card. Putting the card in the back pocket of his pants felt like a secret, and he shivered at remembering the tall stranger’s dark honeyed voice.

 


	2. It's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takaba Akihito is a hardworking temp. Aside from Cup X, he also works at a classy strip bar called Icon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present the next chapter.  
> I hope you enjoy reading as much as I do finding out how the story goes~  
>    
>  _Finder series by the amazing Yamane Ayano._

_**02/ It's Work** _

Takaba Akihito sighed. He was on his way to Icon, a popular upscale bar, boasting of beautiful dancers and unique personalities, short of calling them exotic. There were both male and female dancers who would expertly entice Icon’s clients, short of seducing them but nothing more. It was a bar patterned out of the American burlesque era of showgirls and highly suggestive performances, minus the parody and laughter, oh, no. Nobody laughs in this bar.

Icon was provocative but still very classy. Its dancers are cream of the crop and flawless in their techniques and background. Nobody waved monetary bills or sold themselves for sex or favors as it was rumored Icon’s dancers and staff were all paid a generous amount of money to keep themselves above and different from the rest of the bars in Tokyo.  Add to that, they sell the best of liquor and hors d’oeuvres, naturally. Icon was the top club to be a part of and unlike other bars, membership was not required. 

Why would it need membership when its prices weed out class immediately?

Akihito found himself in front of the tall black building that housed the elite bar. There was one discrete entrance to the side as the building was mainly used for reputable offices. How the upscale bar made its way to Shinjuku’s central business district was lost to him.

His footsteps were heavy as always as he made his way to enter the bar. Among all his part-time jobs to make ends meet, Icon paid the highest per hour. This was the most difficult for the twenty-four year old to do, too.

Sure, dancing came easy. It was _taking off the clothes_ part that got to him.  

“Darling!” A voice called out as he entered the dimly lit establishment, as opening hours was still a long time after the sun goes down.  

“Hey, Mama,” Akihito approached the regal woman dressed in a royal blue velvet long gown. It was out of place at that moment but he knew Icon’s Lady Mistress would even be considered underdressed in the simple gown during its business hours. 

“It’s good to see your face,” she said, kissing both of Akihito’s cheeks in sincerity. “I’m glad you could come down and fill in for Reika.” 

“Sure, Mama. I don’t have that many shifts at Cup,” Akihito said, his eyes warming to the woman who wanted to be called such. “As much as I don’t like taking my clothes off, one night here pays three months of rent and a whole lot of good meals, too.”

The laughter was throaty and real, making the other dancers glance curiously at who tickled Icon’s lady ballet master. When they saw Akihito, they couldn’t help but smile as well. The young dancer was a temp but the most graceful and fun on stage, very much sought after among the male performers. It didn’t hurt he was clumsy off stage and just so down to earth that everybody enjoyed his company save for the handful who were jealous. 

“Silly boy, _you don’t need to take off all_.”

Akihito just shook his head, a smile on his lips as he kissed the lady’s cheek affectionately. “I would’ve charged more if it weren’t for you.”

“Ah, you spoil me,” the lady clicked her tongue but she had a smile on her face that softened her sharp Aryan features. “Go change, we rehearse at once!”

Her voice didn’t leave room for questioning. 

——

Icon’s rehearsals before opening was a strict requirement. It was what one can expect from regular theatrical performances: people were in leotards or unitards and warmup dance clothing, mostly light, tight-fitted pieces layered with easy to take off tops to simulate what would be done during the actual performance. It was a prerequisite the Lady Mistress and former ballet master insisted on, add that to the fact it’ll help the performers to acclimatize to Icon’s cooler air conditioning, too.

She wouldn’t have batted an eyelash if any of them decided to dance in the nude but most of Icon’s performers have been doing this for a living so _not_  having to was most appreciated, as evident by their hard work and ever evolving techniques. 

While Icon’s entertainment menu allow solicitations for more intimate moments in exclusive rooms, private dancing was only allowed with an Icon bodyguard inside the room as well. This served as the club’s assurance to its dancers that they are an asset and not just another piece of ass. Icon values its dancers and staff, pays them generously and ensures their security and privacy, without fail. Their roster of dancers were small and loyal and they were the best in what they do.  

Akihito was on the floor warming up with the rest of the group. He was dressed in a dark gray sleeveless top and pant leotards, with a white razorback tank and a midnight blue shirt cut off. His feet was bare as he preferred but the others had half toe socks or even those foot slip-ons. His assymmetrical hair was pushed back by two Under Armour headbands but the shorter strands still fell on the left side.

“Groups as called,” the Lady voiced out, clipboard on hand. “Katarina, Yelli, Law, first. Middle, Masa, Simon, Juliet, Nini. Closing, Mari, Wen, Aki.”

The hall murmured with excited voices. Akihito was frowning. Icon’s performances were in three parts: first, middle, and closing acts. The middle and closing acts were said to be its prime time, reserved for its more senior dancers, as Icon’s most important clientele can only come after midnight to the wee hours of the morning.  

“Depending on what you show me in the next hour, this lineup changes. First act, you have twenty minutes before starting, all the rest, watch behind me and critique. I do not tolerate dishonesty and ass-kissing,” the Lady said, looking at the performers one by one. “Talk about your playlist and who’ll get which stage. I will respect your expert creative discretion.”

The lady promptly left the stage. The dancers huddled together by acts, still warming up. 

Icon’s floor was divided into a large central stage and two wing stages. The center stage could connect to both wings but was mostly given to the star of the act. Poles could be connected down on all three stages but are mostly used when performances had a story to tell. Icon was fitted to have dance rings suspended to its high ceiling as well as aerial dances in varying shades and colors of cloth. It was a true sight to behold when somebody would be doing seductive aerial dancing. 

Akihito found himself between two petite women who were finishing their warm ups. “Hey, Mari, Wen.” He said. “Have you guys a set list of songs?”

“Good to see you again, Aki,” Mari said, looking up from her split. “We share playlists but I don’t have a preference. How about you, Wen?” 

Wen stretched out her back in a bridge position before shaking her head to the two. “I was actually hoping Reika’ll give me tips on what songs to choose but I didn’t know her mom was in the hospital. I only know of the most used ones like Ginuwine.”

They changed positions in their warm up, settling in.  

“I have Demi Lovato and The Weeknd in mind,” Aki said, his forehead on his knees. “There’s that ballad from the movie Master Showman, too.”

“Huh,” Wen said, thoughtfully, pulling one leg up over her head. “Never thought of that ballad. Wouldn’t the lyrics be a distraction? How about Katy Perry?”

“I usually choose songs by rhythm and lyric, actually,” Akihito said with a small laugh, standing up. “I mean, if you don’t _feel_ the song, it’ll show.” 

“Do you just want to do Demi Lovato tonight?” Mari said, standing as well.  

“I’m all for it but can I skip the pole tonight?” Wen said finishing her warm-ups as the two in her group are already done.

“Reika’s usually center on the pole, Aki, do you mind or would you rather not?” Mari said, saying what made Akihito frown earlier when Mama called out the groups. He knew Reika was a senior and having to sub for her means to dance center stage. It’s just...  

“Well, _work is work_ ,” he shrugged, knowing that the dancer he was subbing was actually one of the more seasoned performers. “Hope I don’t disappoint.”

He searched for his mobile phone and proceeded to list the songs they’d be dancing to. He let Wen and Mari hear the beats of the song, as middle and closing acts could be panned out from five to fifteen minutes onstage, once or twice, depending on the crowd and clamor. Opening acts, as a sort of warm up and service to Icon’s patrons, was a single thirty to forty minute act. Usually strip-play or story performances are the opening dancer’s responsibility.. because _really_ , how can you strip dance for thirty minutes?

However, against popular view, Icon has made its name as the foremost strip bar in Tokyo, and maybe the whole of Japan, easily overtaking older bars who would rotate their dancers at three to five minute intervals.   

Soon, the twenty minute brainstorming was up and the first act performed their dance. It was one of the raunchiest dances the young temp has seen in the three months he was part of Icon. It was playful, fun, and very, very sexy. Akihito could feel his excitement from seeing the opening dancers give it their all in their strip-play. As the remaining female dancer tore off her top, exposing her breasts, all the remaining dancers clapped, whistled, stood up and hooted their appreciations. 

Mama turned to her charges and the noise cut off abruptly. “Critique.” 

While each dancer was made to say something about the thirty minute performance, the opening dancers listened intently, with their chests heaving with exertion and wiping off their sweat, or drinking water, or putting their clothes back on. Each critique was only a step to make them soar higher. 

When it was Aki’s turn, he was chewing his bottom lip. 

“Come, come, Aki, we have two more acts,” Mama said sternly. “Everybody needs rest and nourishment before opening."

“Ah, can I just show it, I tend to botch up things with words,” Aki said, standing up slowly. “If I can?”

 “What, our dance not good enough for you, pretty boy?”

The remark came from Katarina, a half Russian, half Japanese albino. She was one of the taller dancers and one of the more seniors in Icon. She was very beautiful with her almond red eyes and full lips, lithe body, translucent skin and waterfall straight white blonde hair that fell to her buttocks. She was also one of the people who liked to pick on Akihito for some reason.

“Ah, no, I was just thinking it’ll bring better fluidity, especially since you’ll tear your top in the end.”

Mama waved him over to the stage. “Let’s see it.”

Aki skipped to the stage and tripped on the second step which made the room snicker. He rolled his ankle in an almost nervous habit and then went to one side while the three dancers on the stage stood up to see him better.

“So, let me just get this straight, from this exaggerated cat walk,” Aki said, and then proceeded to twist and undulate his body. “To this handsy move..”

Akihito mimicked the moves he just saw, “Here’s what I think should happen, let me dance it first and let me know what you think.” 

Without music, with just his leg beating to his own internal creative, Akihito began dancing. His hands were traveling slowly but sensually down his undulating body from his head, his hands fisting his hair, sliding through, bringing down his headbands to his neck, and covering as much of his body as his roving hands could. When his hands stopped by his hip, he rolled his lower half body while his feet were placed diagonal of each other. It made him look in control and just about playful and sexy as hell.  

Akihito danced, placed his hands on his hips, gave them an exaggerated shake to each side, followed by a shoulder movement and a twist of his torso, his face turning to the side. He winked coquettishly to the audience. He placed his hands loosely on top of his head while turning around, flexing arms and legs, facing away, his back in full view to the audience, cocking his hips out to the right, angling his right leg out, his left leg the other way, forming a square with his knees.

He looked behind and with exaggerated slowness, undulated and rolled his body backward, his eyes pinpointing on Mama, seeing a different set of eye color that was looking back. He closed his eyes, imagined the tall stranger who passed his name card to him earlier that week. He felt the hair on his arms stand up. His mouth unconsciously opened halfway and licked his upper lip. He brought both hands back to his face slowly, carefully, mimicking how a lover would caress body and face softly and hurriedly at the same time. The hairs on his neck stood in attention, his mind still dancing for a single, very male, golden-eyed stranger. His danced turned sexual. He made a face, lost in the feeling, as if impatient for more contact, more attention, more feelings, his hips rolling, faster and faster still while facing the audience again.

He moaned, sensually, to a captive audience who had held their breaths, while he angled both legs, pumping his hips forward, slowly, teasingly, then stopped, his face to the side in dramatic fashion, lips turning up playfully, nervously, as if embarrassed to display such boldness but wanting more, swinging his hips in exaggerated motion again, moving forward, looking at one point in the room, his eyes unseeing, while doing a mimic of tearing of his cut off shirt with much force. His legs angled and pointed to the side, ending on a tip toe, hips out in a languid, sexy position.

His impromptu dance was less than three minutes but his chest was rising and falling, showing how he gave it his all with how he thought the dance could be sexier. He had danced for a stranger in his mind, one who caused a playful, almost painful sort of burn firing up his groin. The audience wouldn't know better but they were witness to a dance that oozed and dripped _sex_ on every shake and beat and turn.

“Magnificent,” Mama breathed out. “Why you are doing photography and odd jobs here and there, I can _never_ understand!”

Murmurs went through the room as they agreed it was a definite sexier finish to the strip-play. Katarina was looking at Akihito, thoughtful. She was challenged by how the boy was evidently graceful, sexy and powerful at the same time. 

“How many counts did you just do?”

“Four 8 counts, 4 counts of posing, twice.” Aki answered her question. “So, 8-8-4-8-8-4."

“Do we change the last song?” asked Law who was frowning. He was the only male dancer in the opening act. 

“Nah, you can ask the DJ to slow down on the 8 to 4’s.” Aki shrugged, making his way back to his seat in the audience. Since he was facing Law on the stage, he didn’t realize he missed a step and ended up tripping forward.

Katarina, rolled red eyes and made a disgusted sound. “Your skills in dancing and _sex_ are wasted on you,” she was shaking her head but there was no heat in her words. 

Akihito blushed. 

“Sex? Meaning being a boy?” Another male dancer, Masa, who was in the middle act, asked.

“No, sex as in sex. Bedroom activity.”

Akihito’s face grew darker and redder, if that was possible, as the room erupted in laughter.

“Enough,” Mama said but her lips were trembling as she was trying in vain to stop her laughter as well. “Opening group, incorporate what you just saw Aki do, if you prefer it that way. It will certainly challenge the _sheep_ to offer for you for the night, ending the performance _that_ sexy.”

The last sentence was said dryly as everybody in Icon knew the lady ballet master had low regard to the patrons and powerful customers the elite bar attracted. Her German ancestry could be the reason she thought so little of them.

“We begin the middle act in five minutes,” she said finally. “Thank you, opening dancers. You are raising the bar for the night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, THANK YOU for the wonderful comments and all the kudos for Chapter 1! ♡  
> I feel I am not worthy!  
> I hope I will not disappoint!
> 
> ISTG, these characters run off on their own. I didn't even see it coming, Takaba being a strip dancer! Chapter 2 was supposed to be a BDSM scene but then again, the characters wanted something different..
> 
> I'll be adding tags as I go along. I've written a couple of chapters in but then whenever I self-beta, the previously written chapters gets pushed back.
> 
> Comments, reviews and reactions appreciated! Please be kind.
> 
> _The music/artists mentioned in this story is my own interpretation that it can be used for other entertainment purposes. I mean no offense or insult to the artists or their fans._
> 
> _/ 11 March 2018_


	3. Remember to Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takaba Akihito meets someone at a bar he didn't expect.. yet we find out there are some who fantasize tying the light-haired boy up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my first time writing.. anything like this.
> 
> I know the characters wanted to be.. _more_.. it's just that _**I**_ fail to give anything close to what they wanted, I guess.. (sweat drop) 
> 
> _Finder series by the amazing Yamane Ayano._

> _“Of course I’ll hurt you._
> 
> _Of course you’ll hurt me._
> 
> _Of course we will hurt each other._
> 
> _But this is the very condition of existence._
> 
> _To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter._
> 
> _To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence…”_
> 
> _// Antoine de Saint-Exupéry_
> 
> __

**_03/ Remember to Breathe_**

Treated rope stretched and hissed in a symphony of whispers and snaps as it made its way from its cozy pile on the floor, slinking and coiling to meet and attach to smooth skin. A moan was heard, half in groan, half in sigh, muffled by experience. 

His only partner for the night was a known  _Kinbakushi_  or Rope Master. He was what the house he belonged to called a Dominant or Dom. This Dom was his usual patron every Wednesday. It was an unspoken rule that he free his Wednesday nights for him. You see, the Dominant wasn’t interested in actual contact or sex, no. The Dom didn’t even need a submissive. The hefty sum he’s being paid for is only about the ropes, nothing more. He’s not even asked to give a blow job, hand job or whatever job, no, not to this patron.

This patron paid double the usual house rate for his time to be stripped off his clothes, stripped off whatever he thought of himself, and be his most _vulnerable_. He would engage in, at the most, 45 minutes of _shibari_ or being tied up, pitifully aroused beyond his senses, agonizingly suspended in position with ropes and knots, bound for display. There were nights where he would be tied to a position, only to unravel in heightened pleasure and ejaculation, and then it’ll start all over again. This patron could wring three to four orgasms from him in the short time they’re together, a feat, _none_  of his lovers or partners have ever given him.

It was addicting as well as so satisfying, he didn’t care he couldn’t feel any of his limbs or extremities. He didn't care he was in god-awful pain. He didn’t care his patron was _male_. He didn’t care if his patron wanted to fuck after a difficult position and he’d be very uncomfortable with pins and needles clawing all over his body. _He didn’t care.._ not that they ever had fucked.

The orgasms he’s achieved more than makes up for the agony he had to endure. To top it off, his bank account and savings has been significantly improving. Now, he could indulge on the brands he always envied his patrons carried.

It’s what I deserve, he thought. Not everyone can do _this_.

For the three times he had sessions with this Dom, he knew he’d either go through a number of challenging poses, sometimes finish a God know how many 8-inch candles, or even go through different types of rope.

Conversation or noise was non-existent which made the otherwise chatty young male quite nervous and out of sorts. His first session, as he remembered, making a wave of pink creep up from his neck upwards, he couldn’t help shiver and be afraid.  

“You don’t have to fear me or this,” the Dom had said then, voice low and clear like honey dripping. It was arousing on its own and deliciously seductive. “You will learn to enjoy this and the pleasure that will come with the pain.”

Oh, how he enjoyed the pain he was given!

“How is the tightness?” The silky voice asked him, bringing him back to the present, as he could feel his Dom’s strong arms working to keep knots and his limbs in place.

“Enough,” he had learn to answer laconically, face lifting to where the voice was nearer, as he was bound tonight with a black satin blindfold for the first time.

It was their fourth night together and while he never had a clear look on this Dom’s face, he _knew_ him to be attractive, from his stance, his clothes, his catlike grace, and his absolute strength in handling him. He could smell him, a whiff of cigarettes and something deliciously male. Otherwise, he had only sparse contact with his Dom as he had on gloves. It both irked and intrigued him. 

The Dom hummed, quietly working to keep knots and rope even and symmetrical. 

“Remember to breathe,” the Dom advised, bringing his leg up in an angle that was impossible if it weren’t for his flexibility. 

Did he hear a faint smile in the Dom’s voice? “Yes,” he answered quickly. He wanted to converse, wanted to hear more of the Dom’s voice, wanted more of his Dom, in general.

While the Dom worked efficiently and quickly, he brought his lifted leg down and bound it carefully. Afterwards, he felt his left arm brought behind him while his legs were fixed in a very devastating, baring position of the letter ‘M,’ making him feel very vulnerable and very exposed.

As one knot was done tighter than the usual, the rope from his bound arm going across his shoulder and neck, his breath hitched unconsciously as the blindfold made him _feel_  everything tenfold, if not more. 

“Is it painful?”

He licked his dry lips, his half hard penis twitching in position. He had one free arm but he knew better than to touch himself. “A-A bit,” he said, swallowing audibly. “I-It’s tighter than the rest..”

A heart beat and then another; a breath and then another.

Time passed by the spaces of his pulse, loud and obtrusive in his ears.

Only the hiss and creak of ropes, the rare clink of chains, as well as the whisper of discarded cloth marred the silent ocean of pleasure and agony he was experiencing. 

How long ago had he spoken? When was the last time the Dom touched him? 

He swallowed again and opened his mouth to ask the Dom when he felt the tensed bindings on his arm loosen a bit.

He sighed and bowed his head, as he was taught to be in position.

The Dom made quick work on his other arm, placing them in perpendicular angles behind his back held by intricate crisscrossed rope and knots, akin to a turtle shell. 

“Breathe, pet,” The Dom murmured, looking over his work, more rope in his hands. “We’ve only just begun.” 

He visibly and audibly exhaled, shoulders dropping, trying his binding, seeing if any were too tight. This Dom was quite meticulous and was fairly generous with him. Other Doms or the submissives he has been partners with were all selfish and only cared for their pleasure alone.

He felt the Dom work the pulley that was bolted to the ceiling. He knew what would come next. His heart started beating faster, his erection still in a half-hard state, twitching. The pit of his stomach coiling with anticipation and dread.

He heard a dark and sexy chuckle behind him. “You’ve learned beautifully, pet.” 

“Yes.”

_“Would you want me to fuck you?”_

His breath hitched, the hair on his arms stood straight in attention, his erection growing harder by every pulse and heart beat. He swallowed audibly, wanting to lubricate a dry throat with the Dom’s voice and proposition. 

“Would you want _me_ ,” the dark voice spoke again behind him, his words underlined by the creak of the pulley and chains. “to fuck _you_ senseless and make you black out, pet?” 

“Y-ye..” He swallowed again, his legs painfully numb, his penis rock hard and to think he wasn’t even being touched! His hands tried their bindings, his movements contained as he felt rope and knot and lines restrict him, biting into sensitive hot flesh.

“P-pl.. _Please_.” he managed to whisper the word out. 

The sexiest half-laugh came from his right, tickling his ears, making him shiver until his toes, the blindfold making every single gesture and interaction potent like the most concentrated and purest of drugs, igniting a line of fire straight to his groin, making him wonder if he was ever straight. 

The question caught him off-guard, feeling bulldozed but desperate to answer this powerful man who taught him brevity of words. This Dom taught him a lot about _himself_ and bondage that he never cared to explore; that being bound was arousing, that he could give in _wholly_  to someone else’s whims, that he craved the pain and pleasure this male Dom gave him and that _he wanted to be fucked._  

“Ah, pet, I’m not sure if you’re ready...”

The sound he heard was a half-moan, more like a whine, and it was a realization when it came from the back of his own throat. He whimpered, feeling goosebumps rise throughout his body. 

He felt the ropes on his back become taught as more bindings were looped into his upper back and then to his groin which made him whimper again. The two ropes that frame his erection were being pulled tightly backward. His mouth opened and he began breathing.. no, panting audibly.

As he felt his weight lift by the pull of the Dom, he angled himself downward, as he was taught, to make it easier to be suspended. His breath hitched again as the knots and some rope laced through him even tighter, gravity pulling him downward, the pulley, bringing him up and away from the floor, the pain he was given, _exquisite_ and unlike any other.

He tried to calm down his thudding heart, loud to his ears, following the Dom’s orders to _breathe_.

He could feel his muscles and extremities complain in the position they were bound in, the ache starting to grow unbearable, the fine hair on his body, still standing at attention. He felt hot and terribly aroused and in numbing pain. It made his mind swim and panic at the warring states of his body. He forced himself to exhale and count his breaths. 

The Dom finished anchoring the pulley rope that held him. Once done, he began inspecting the tied up boy carefully, appreciating the tightening of black rope on leg and white skin, the knots holding well.

The black satin blindfold complemented the rope but the boy’s hair was a wrong shade of blond, not like the light colored hair he had fantasized to tie up and fuck senseless.

A line of fiery tingle shot through his groin, remembering the light eyes, the pale skin, the flash of a tongue, and pink lips being bitten by white teeth. 

Mindlessly, he pushed on the bound boy, making him sway, eliciting a moan and whimper from him. As he rocked like a pendulum, slower and slower, he lifted a hand and began palming the knots and crosses he made all over.

The Dom had chosen the boy because he was slim and pretty and he had wanted to practice _shibari_ again. He wanted to be sure he wouldn’t damage or hurt the light-eyed boy that had been haunting him. 

A corner of his lips turned up. It was their fourth night together and the bound boy now knew how to answer and behave, so unlike the first night where he kept shivering in fright and kept making unnecessary noises.

When the bound boy stopped moving, he brought another hand up to fleshy parts, making the boy squirm while being suspended. When his gloved finger traced a line on the boy’s erection and a gasp was heard, he wondered whether the light-haired boy would ever let him do _this_ to him.

He looked at the face of his expensive watch. The Dom then let his right hand glide up to the boy’s chest, tweaking and pinching the small nipples in its wake, making the boy moan and whimper at the same time. He pushed against his bindings, craving more of his touch. 

He would rather another boy’s breath hitch, another boy moan, whimper and ache for him.

The Dom gave a small shake of his head and focused on the one in front of him, inspecting the bindings on his back, making sure it didn’t cut or cinch skin, even if it will mark him for a day or two.

When the hands tweaking and playing with his hardened nipples turned to the rope bindings, the boy had to swallow back protests and whimpers as he wanted to be touched more, stroked more, held more. 

The hands disappeared and after maddening silence, he heard first, more than he smelled, the scratch and burst of a matchstick being lit. His already hard erection strained and thumped with his heartbeat. As his extremities were painfully going numb, the blindfold made him focus more on the sounds around him and to his body’s reactions.

When the first of the hot wax dripped from rope to his shoulders, he flinched then shruddered, exhaling.

He knew that it will be a long, long time until he gets down.  

——

Takaba Akihito was relieved to find out he could end work earlier than scheduled. While he was initially told to do Icon’s closing act, his group’s dance, while sexy in their own right, paled in comparison to the strip-play performed by the opening group. 

All the dancers were seated in a circle, all facing Icon’s venerable Lady as they were being instructed as well as some of Icon’s staff who had came in already.

“Mari, Wen, Aki, you’re doing the opening act at 23:45, finish by midnight. Talk to the DJ how to transition from songs. I like the mood you’ll set the night with.” The Lady said and then smirked. “Jilted love or cheating lovers, so appropriate, don’t you think?”

The question was not meant to be answered but some of the staff, mostly Icon’s bodyguards, shifted on their feet, knowing how some of the bar’s high-profiled clients were married and would still solicit for escorts and private hours with some of the dancers. 

“Middle act, as is, be careful on your transition as your blocking will either ensure a successful or failed performance. No tearing of clothes or showing of breasts as I’d like to leave that part to the closing act.”

All three acts were given instructions and time slots, the closing act to start at three-thirty in the morning. None of the dancers were expected to stay after their acts as Icon assumed its dancers did not deal with _extra work_  outside their time slots, however, for camaraderie's sake, they all stayed behind to ensure that they’d start and end the job together. Sometimes, the dancers would double as the waitstaff or bartenders when Icon gets busy.

Naturally, not one dancer shows their face fully while performing, even when they would take off all their clothes. The dancers had their pick of elaborate half masks, beautiful eye covers, rigged blindfolds where they can still see, patches, or even customized cloths to cover the lower half of their faces to ensure their identity from being known. Icon’s Lady’s orders. 

“Alright, guards,” The Lady turned to the big hulky men beside the stage where the dancers were sitting. “No private sessions for the night. End of question. I don’t care if the Prime Minister of Japan himself or the King of Thailand requests for any of my charges.”

Her voice dripped ice and was as hard. “If I hear any of them engage in any private sessions, you answer to me.” 

The line of a dozen bodyguards all murmured their acknowledgment. Each bodyguard had specific dancers they look after, the more senior to those who attracted more trouble than usual.

Masa’s frown was visible to the Lady. “Speak, Masa, do you have an appointment tonight?”

He was careful in answering but end up stuttering. “Mama, I.. we.. it’s..”

“Reschedule,” The Lady snapped. “No one, I mean it, _nobody_ goes up the stairs. Manager.”

A tall attractive man with eyeglasses, in a dark three-piece suit presented himself forward. “I am the substitute for the night, Lady.” He bowed slightly.  

“No one uses the second floor tonight.” 

The instruction was simple and explicit. Icon’s substitute manager frowned, as he wasn’t told what authority the lady ballet master had. He knew better than to question her though, knowing how Icon’s success was mostly due to this lady’s tutelage, as evident by her outrageous negotiation of its dancers’ salaries. 

Clear green eyes lifted to regard dark blue ones. “As you instruct, Lady.” 

The lady harrumphed and turned her back, giving final orders to her charges, dismissing the manager and guards for their own rituals before opening. 

“Guards and staff to the bar.” The substitute manager extended his right arm, pointing towards where they can meet and do their pre-opening meeting. 

Kirishima inwardly sighed. Why he was told to be a substitute manager in a strip bar no less was above and beyond his three masters in finance, management, and economics. He looked back again to the stage and to Icon’s Lady. 

Why would Ichi want this bar? He wondered, reaching for his mobile phone and ensuring to message Asami that he had infiltrated the bar successfully and without suspicion. 

“Beautiful M/F dancers, dragon lady ballet master, tight 12 security,” he typed, preparing a summarized report of what he learned so far. “Opens at 21:00, closing at 05:00. Come anytime after 23:30 to see performers, last act at 03:30. Could be foreign-managed/owned.”

When he proceeded to instruct Icon’s staff of twenty by the bar, he appreciated the opulent but industrial design of the bar, liking the combination of grey and moss green all around. 

Unbeknownst to him, light eyes locked on his back as the young dancer instantly recognized him to be one of the men who accompanied the tall attractive stranger who now kept intruding into his thoughts.

A shot like thunder made his groin twitch and an excited, lustful fist coiled in his belly.

_This will be an interesting night_ , he thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, reviews, and reactions appreciated! ♡
> 
>  
> 
> _/ 18 March 2018_


	4. Are You Ready?

**_04/ Are You Ready?_ **

The tall substitute manager took off his steel frameless eyeglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. At the young age of thirty-six, he was a self-made multimillionaire. He’s also living a good life. He’s in business with friends he grew up with, he actually liked his job, and he was at his best health. What he didn’t understand was the predicament he was in despite his three postgraduate degrees. He sighed.

“Sir, the Yamazaki party has been.. er, clamoring for center stage seats.” Displeasure could be seen on the face of his young maître d'. He was frowning and the manager knew why. The Yamazaki group was well-known both in the political and underground world and to put it simply, they behaved like the stereotypical self-entitled pricks wherever they go.

“Clamoring, huh.” The manager muttered, his green eyes hard and glittering. “You could say ‘demanding’ and that won’t even be disrespectful.”

“Sir?”

Kirishima sighed again and wiped his eyeglasses with a special cloth he usually keeps in his person. “Don’t worry, Kou,” he said to the light-brown haired staff, giving him a small smile. It was brief but it was a rare smile all the same. “I’ll handle the Yamazaki group.”

Kou bowed his head, relief all over his face. “Thank you, sir. The other reservations are in line as we speak.”

Kirishima nodded and squared his shoulders. It’s showtime, he thought, inwardly preparing himself for the night. He thought to the _why_ he was uncharacteristically doing overtime work and his frown deepened.

Ichi better inspect this place soon else I won’t hold this farce of a job for long, he thought, running his hand through his hair, finally longer and stylish, growing out from the buzzcut he had for the longest time. The buzzcut was for losing to a bet between Asami and Suoh. The memory made him smile a little, lifting his otherwise sour mood.

The three were in Taiwan, at the beginning of the year, hoping to establish some ties with the Wang conglomerate. Suoh had predicted what value they would compromise with and Kirishima, who worked on mathematics and statistics, gave a number. It was Asami who challenged the two for a certain percentage while Suoh insisted on haircuts as penalty.

It turns out, Kirishima’s number was the _farthest_ to the two billion yen venture their little company, Keichisu International Corporation won from the deal. The loss meant 5% more for Suoh, 10% more for Asami and a horrible buzzcut to the otherwise conservative Kirishima. He blamed Asami’s tongue and charisma that easily won the Wangs over, but Kirishima was happy all the same for the growth of their _side_ business.

The thought made a smile ease on his face. It was a drunken night when the three decided, spontaneously, mind you, to create an international company as fallback to their would-be main business front all those years back during their pre-university days. The name ‘Keichisu’ was coined by the too-drunk and too-mischievous Suoh and it just stuck.

Besides, nobody in the underworld would ever realize the corporation belonged to the three as everything was dealt with by their foreign counterparts and had its own partnership with their front business, Scion Trade and Properties. It seemed whatever the three ventured into would become successful at whatever turn and they now have more than enough to retire already. However, due to their growing businesses, both front and back-end, they maintain activities to get by and stave off the otherwise too-easily bored Asami. Becoming successful also had its fair share of leechers and sleazy connections and it seemed for the three young, accomplished men, they’ve seen it all. The trio’s closeness and loyalty spoke of their experiences and dealings which frequently tested and challenged their values.

Further, if it’s anything or anybody that Asami needed, and to the rest of the world, Kirishima would play the docile, low-bowing, humble assistant. Anyone else was just a pain and heaven forbid anyone dumb or unprepared cross paths with the genius right-hand man.

“Manager,” a commanding voice called from behind him.

He straightened himself to his full height of six foot one. “Yes, madame,” he said, bowing slightly to Icon’s Lady ballet master.

“Do realize who among my charges are being chased after. Katarina and Aki are the usual favorites but Masa is being too easy again.” She sighed loudly. “I don’t know why he’d..”

“Noted, madame.” He had to cut off her musings as he didn’t see any advantage of knowing anything personal of the club’s dancers.

A perfectly arched eyebrow raised and blue eyes glittered dangerously. “Manager, I expect you to brief the guards in charge of Katarina, Aki and Masa tonight.” She said tersely. “I don’t want anything to happen to them or _I will have your head._ ”

Kirishima was struck curious as the hairs on the back of his neck straightened and tensed. He began looking at the Lady differently and with interest. “Understood, madame.” Maybe it was the way it was said or it was the blue eyes. In any case, the genius substitute manager was quite impressed. Only a handful could trigger his baser instincts.

The Lady harrumphed once again, gave him a glare and left with a swish of her dress and a flip of her perfectly styled silver blonde hair.

When the Lady was out of sight another voice spoke up.

“Katarina, Aki and Masa’s guards are Nino, Takato and Gin, sir.”

Kirishima blinked and turned. “Thank you, Kou. I would have asked Takato as he’s the staff in charge tonight but that saves me the trouble.”

Kou gave him a nod.

——

“Aki, feel my chest, feel my chest! My heart’s beating too fast!” Mari said, almost breathless, her face glowing, her eye make up dark with the eyeliner ends winged with exaggeration but still very much on point paired with a very short Jessica Rabbit red one piece, dressing her part of sin and seduction. She was fanning her face with her black lacy gloves.

Wen laughed softly as she was putting on mascara to her already too-long false eyelashes. “Oh, honey, it’s all our first time to do an opening!”

Takaba Akihito who was putting on his altered gray suit on top of skimpy black leather underwear just smiled at the two. “Mama probably got caught up with the playlist, I think,” he said, buttoning his fitted coat.

“Darling, it is three Demi songs. On top of that, your dances were impressive and synchronized. I enjoyed the story you played. It’s good enough to be repeated weekly.”

Mari turned quickly to the Lady who entered their dressing room. “Oh, Mama! Are you sure we can dance a fifteen minute song for the opening?”

A throaty laugh could be heard as Icon’s Lady entered the room to appease her young dancers. “Yes, Mari. You and Wen are breathtaking. Add Aki to that equation and you can close, open, and dance the same number all night long and I assure you, there will be a flock of sheep who’d ask for private hours with you.” Her words were sardonic and biting at the same time. “Not that they will have any.”

“Are the dances tonight too sexy, Mama?” Aki asked, putting on his special gray silk blindfold, to complete his ensemble. His head cover of choice, was the special blindfold which lets the wearer see. Others usually favored the cloth covering the lower half of the face, which was the go-to option of Icon’s dancers. Rather than the lower head cover, he opts for masks and anything that would cover or conceal his unusual light-colored eyes.

The Lady was helping Mari secure her lower head cover which hid most of her face from the eyes below. The material was a breathable and soft, luxurious cloth in all types of designs and shades. Mari was wearing black and Wen, red. Their outfits were both slinky, sequined, body hugging dresses in the colors of red and black, respectively, which contrasted their head covers. Akihito was the only one in a dark gray theme ensemble.

“I honestly think the tone and feel for tonight may incite the sheep’s baser instincts of mating.” She said flatly, now helping Wen secure her lower head cover, making sure Wen’s straight, long black hair won’t get caught in the cloth’s knots. “It’s just a gut feel to not have any of you work on the second floor tonight.”

“The owner gave me enough authority to have a say on these things.” The Lady continued, now checking Aki’s blindfold, and ruffling his asymmetrical hair. “I want to prioritize your security and safety, after all.”

Aki turned to his partners for the night, seeing Mari and Wen in their completed ensemble made him catch his breath. “You girls are too beautiful,” he said simply.

Mari and Wen’s dark eye makeup framed smiling eyes. “Thank you, Aki, let’s give it our best, shall we?”

“Further,” Mama said, suddenly, turning to the three who were ready to take on the night’s opening act. “There’s apparently entitled sheep seated at both center stage table and stage left table. I care not for these things but you know where to situate yourselves, I presume.”

“Yes, Mama,” they said in unison.

“You have ten minutes to start. Make sure to stay warm and limber up,” the Lady said, looking at the three, and waved them off with a final word, “Dance like you’re most desperate to turn on your precious person.. _dance enough to burn your body to these sheep’s eyes_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos! ♡
> 
> It's two weeks since I've been back from a trip to Europe and Real Life just kept me from writing! This wasn't even supposed to be the chapter but Kirishima wanted more attention and I can't help but bow down to him (*´◡`)
> 
> As always, my heart will be grateful for any comments and feedback~
> 
> _/ 22 April 2018_


	5. I Don’t Really Need to Know if My Heart is in Danger

**_05/ I Don’t Really Need to Know if My Heart is in Danger_ **

Takaba Akihito had the final rundown of their song list quickly with the DJ who was good enough to handle the beats and transitions during their performances. He could vaguely hear the bustle of Icon behind the stage's thick black velvet curtain as he walked backstage to his place. 

He couldn’t help but notice the hairs on the back of his neck were unusually prickly. Even the pit of his stomach was being unruly. He felt uncomfortable and excited at the same time. 

“Everything’s good to go.” He said when he returned to Wen and Mari, followed closely by Takato who was a big, silent shadow behind him.

The two girls were closing and opening their hands and Aki grabbed each one. “Hey,” he said, looking through his blindfold to the two. “We’ve rehearsed well and Mama approved the choreography.”

He turned to his silent shadow. “Don’t forget what I told you, Takato.”

The big shadow nodded and proceeded to speak softly to his lapel where an inconspicuous mic was pinned. 

Mari nodded, shaking her legs, giving a breathy nervous laugh. “This is exciting.” 

Wen snorted. “You can say that again.”

“Opening, five til curtain!” Mama called out, doubling as the stage manager. 

Aki gave the two girls’ hands another firm squeeze before taking his place on center stage. All three dancers will have a little solo and entrance to start with their strip-play.

On the opposite side of the curtain, Kirishima wanted to strangle the two men who was seating on his center table, making the party he ended up placing at stage left grumble and complain. 

He knew he couldn’t move the two giants from their place, seeing the Dalmore 1979 bottle they ordered. He found himself sighing. A sudden annoying drum on the back of his head started and it wasn’t from the club’s music.

Mischievous pools of amber gold-colored eyes, gleamed across the floor and stared straight at him. A dark eyebrow rose in question, almost challenging.

He blew a breath, giving a roll of his eyes to the challenge he saw. He straightened his shoulders more when he heard the two giants laugh at his expense. He signaled for one of his staff to bring an 18-year McCallan to the grumbling table. 

“Compliments of the managers, sirs,” a deep bow and a presentation of the bottle was done, followed by another staff who efficiently placed crystal glasses and an ice bucket on the table. 

A snort was made by a beer-bellied middle-aged man in an ill-fitting suit. There were snarky comments from the rest of the table. “What good are the dancers here!”

“Number one bar,” another scoffed who seemed to be the group’s head. “Bring out the strippers!”

“Strippers!” The group of six cackled and jeered, chanting the word, already sloppily pouring their liquor on the new glasses.

Kirishima shifted his feet and assigned another staff to wait on the table. It was initially a female staff but since the party was getting rowdy with just one bottle almost-finished between them, he had a more senior male staff placed on that duty as he had just sent a new bottle.

“Takato, are your staff in place and the stairs to the second floor cordoned off?” He spoke quietly to his own mic on his suit. He stood near the bar, in the shadows, making sure to have a good view of the whole floor. 

“Sir,” a voice affirmed in his left ear. “Nino and Gin will be assisting me later during the opening, so’s the rest of the staff I talked to.”

Kirishima was flabbergasted and for the first time in a long while, his pulse quickened. “What assist? What opening?” He demanded, knowing there was something he didn’t made him feel naked and unprepared with an upsurge of emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Takato!”

Suddenly, the lights dimmed out, leaving the accent lights by the stage the only illumination left to the massive floor of Icon. The substitute manager’s spine stiffened as if cold water was thrown at him. A hush fell on the murmurs of the bar’s patrons. They’ll be in for a treat. The beat music was loud, attention-seeking, thumping like a coquette’s heart beat and made everybody fidget more in their seats.

A leg jutted out from black velvet curtains as the strip-play started, in tune and synchronized with the alluring bass tone. The cat calls and cheers echoed all around, deafening and throwing everybody in the mood. Pulses quickened and eyes widened with eyebrows raising.

“Takato!” Kirishima whispered fiercely on his mic, yanking his lapel nearer his mouth. A cold dread growing in the pit of his stomach. “Somebody better start talking to me or—“

“Oh, shush, you noisy substitute!” A woman’s voice commanded over his earpiece. 

The thirty-six year old genius was silenced with the tone. His face was heated up.

“Just let _my_ staff wow you speechless and enjoy the show.”

Green eyes slitted dangerously at the smirk he could hear over the communication network the floor, stage, and guard staff share. It was a suggestion of Icon’s Lady to have everybody be connected to everyone else. It ensured the efficiency and safety of its personnel. 

While Kirishima was being silenced by the Lady, Asami was shot immovable when the third dancer entered the stage in front of him. It was such a graceful dancer, he had a hard time thinking they weren’t all girls. 

The gray suit coat fluttered open as buttons were ripped apart by the dancer, moving coquettishly to the beat, mimicking and performing a couple’s desire for each other. A loud roar went through the crowd, men and women alike were cheering.

_Your body's looking good tonight_

Hips and leg were brought side by side with a girl dressed in bright red sequins.

_I'm thinking we should cross the line_

A long hand, splayed open, grabbed thigh and ripped lacy stocking. The two dancers lined up, red and gray, a flash of black lace to tease the crowd on what underwear the girl was wearing. 

_Do all the things on our minds_

A turn and two bodies snapped tightly together, front to front. 

_What's taking us all this time_

Black laced hands roamed and groped a back that was supple and strong, bringing up coat and white shirt underneath up for the audience to see a delicious peek of muscles and flesh. A hint of a thong peeking by the man’s hip. Breaths hitched as if air was sucked out from the room and everybody was waiting for a command to exhale.

_Let's ruin the friendship, let's ruin the friendship_

A seductively low, slow, cradle rock and exaggerated thrust of hips, both gray and red, red and gray, until they looked like one color and cloth. The audience sucks in another breath as the man’s hand, travels from the side, snakes up front and slowly, teasingly, gropes breast and cleavage too fast for them to see anything but enough to make them be at their edge of their seats and sweat. 

_Put down your cigar and pick me up_

A remix of the song, seamlessly done, unnoticed by everyone except the performers happen, right to the queue as the man drags and lifts the red-sequined temptress in his arms effortlessly, mimicking, throwing on a bed. 

_Play me your guitar, that song I love_

All the audience could see was gray leg over black laced creamy thighs, a shot of black over the red as the girl was pulled forward to the man’s chest, matching undulations and rolls and sways. Both dancers were pinned to the center pole, the man’s hand brought both of the red temptress’ above her, making their torsos curve and their hips dip together, rhythmically, making a deliciously sinful show. 

_Thirsty for your love, fill up my cup_

The two dancers battle, moving their torsos forward and back, hands to thighs, legs to crotch, buttocks to pole. It was sex standing up by a stripper pole with clothes on, if anything else.

_I got_   _only good intentions, so give me your attention_

Hands, lace, gray sleeve and black head cover flashed while the blindfolded man was stripped and freed from his coat revealing a crisp white shirt, molding a lithe torso.

_You’re only brave in the moonlight_

“Good, aren’t they,” the female voice spoke again in his ear. Kirishima could only give a curt nod to the statement as it wasn’t a question. His gaze was helplessly fastened to the two figures who seemed to be mimicking playful, rigorous but graceful rutting by a pole on his stage, enraging his floor to roaring cheers and whistles. 

_So why don’t you stay ‘til sunrise?_

_I need more guards_ , the substitute manager thought as both dancers gave another cradle sway and rock of their hips.

_I want him_ , a brooding immovable man on the floor’s center table thought, surprised at the force of attraction he got ever since the gray-clad dancer came on stage. 

“I take it, we’re buying Icon?” 

Asami blinked once, saw the blindfolded dancer take the pole with the female dancer in between and started gyrating with her legs up his shoulders, _her heels to his ears._ He blinked again but didn’t take his eyes off the stage. His right hand reached out to the table where his drink sat. 

Suoh chuckled, pouring himself another shot of the expensive bottle, enjoying his friend’s reactions. 

“Do you even taste the whisky, Ichi?” The giant prodded, grinning, seeing his friend putting glass to lips like an automation, unmoving with his eyes glued to the stage.

A growl was the best description Suoh could make to what was the inarticulate sound the tycoon made. It was curious he could hear it but then realized the songs changed and more cheers and whistles echoed around him. 

_I can’t explain what’s going on_

Golden eyes narrowed seeing the male dancer spin the red temptress away from him and in the next beat, catch a black-clad vixen with a red head cover and waterfall straight black hair in his arms and dipping her to the side, making her hair fan out dramatically.

_Something happened when you came along, oh_

Red laced arm reached up to gray blindfold, ending on his neck while dancers turned, facing each other. The man lifted the vixen effortlessly high, her legs kicking up straight,  away from her body, flashing red laced underwear, then swinging downwards, ending with her two legs straddling his hips, her back to the audience. 

_It’s driving me crazy, crazy_

Playing the act of vixen and mistress, the woman rolled her body while the man propped his back to the pole, his hands on the woman’s back, while she gyrated backwards and then saw the audience upside down, spilling her ebony hair to the floor. 

_You’re taking me to new places_

A leg reaches up and places the dorsum of the foot on the man’s cheek, two of her hands by her ears, like she was making a bridge with her back.

_And I pretend I’m not anxious but oh_

The man leans to the side and nuzzles on the foot, helpless to her seductions.

_You’re driving me crazy, crazy_

His tongue laps twice to the foot by his face. 

Asami stiffened. His breath hitched, the dance move going straight to his groin. 

_I was walking down this broken road_

A backward flip made red laced panties flash the audience once again.

_I was stranded, I was all alone_

The man’s arms both shot up and grab the pole, while the black vixen runs red laced fingers and arms to his front with deliberate slowness from behind him. 

_Always played it safe when it came to love_

The blindfolded dancer’s head thrashed left and right, mouth opened, writhing on the pole, while the red laced hands run up and down, to his face, neck, ripping his buttoned collar, lifting shirt, teasing the audience to look their fill on white flesh, a leap of muscles, a pink nipple.

_Until you came and picked me up_

“I want him.”

Suoh’s eyebrows lifted, turning to his companion. 

_I've been waitin' all night, lookin' for your headlights_

Side by side now, the pole in between them, black and gray dancer gyrated and undulated in perfect unison until they had one leg over each side, facing the other. 

_I know that we're strangers, but I'll leave it all for you_

Both slowly rolled their bodies backwards and forwards and with a yank and a grab of the pole, the male dancer made the two of them spin on the pole, ending on opposite sides from where they started, sitting on the floor.

_Go anywhere you wanna go_

Black stockinged feet went up the pole slowly then snapped back down. 

_I don't really need to know, if my heart is in danger_

Gray pant leg went up the pole and with what seemed an impossible move, the male dancer was on tiptoe, making a split on the pole while he was reaching out to the vixen who had both legs up. 

_'Cause as long as you're the driver_

The man effortlessly lifted the woman in black towards his body, her ankles by his shoulders. His legs folded over the pole, one arm to the woman’s waist, torso out and away, his other arm on the pole behind him. 

_I'm your hitchhiker, yeah_

The woman twisted with the man who was suspended on the pole by his folded legs and they both spun down again, with the woman’s back to the floor, the man’s torso on the woman. 

_I'm your hitchhiker, yeah, yeah_

Amber gold-eyes stared and followed every move of the gray-clad dancer on stage, like watching prey. When the dancer gave a dive towards the black vixen towards the floor and proceeded to hump the floor and her, his hands jerked, as if grabbing something. 

—— 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First part of the bar scene!  
> I have another one that's being such a lunkhead to write!  
> I hope I did well ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
> 
> _Finder series by the amazing Yamane Ayano._
> 
> Comments, reviews and reactions appreciated! Please be kind.
> 
> _The music/artists mentioned in this story is my own interpretation that it can be used for other entertainment purposes. I mean no offense or insult to the artists or their fans._
> 
> _/ 30 April 2018_


	6. You Ain't Nobody Till You Got Somebody

**_06/ You Ain’t Nobody Till You Got Somebody_ **

Kirishima Kei noticed his staff with Nino and Gin approaching the floor discretely while both black and gray-clad dancers writhed on stage, mimicking an adulterous pairing.

“Don’t look so lost, boy,” a woman’s voice drawled on his ear, all smug and arrogant.

It took every inch of his discipline to not snap at the Lady goading him on but he let out a silent breath and with hard green eyes fixed on the stage, spoke oh, so quietly, “If I am left out of this plan and something happens on _my_ floor, Lady, I will hand your dancers to _anybody_ tonight seeing how rowdy it’s getting.”

The words were steel and blade that cut across Icon’s commnet or communications network. It was Kirishima using his best ‘Asami voice’ that effectively closes deals with both hardened and pompous people in power which worked all the time. The three friends acknowledged Asami’s flair for getting whatever he wants immediately or making knees quake or even making those in the highest of position _want_ to please the tycoon. It was a mystery that Asami does it without ever raising his voice or changing his tone. No matter how much Suoh or Kirishima mimic or study him, they just ended up with their own version of the Asami voice which works wonders. It was obvious the substitute manager was not backing down to the indomitable Lady of Icon. 

The Lady, however, gave a scoff over the line, calling his bluff. Green eyes widened. Kirishima couldn’t help but wonder if the white blonde haired Lady and Asami were related, feeling out of sorts and frustrated. The hairs on the back of his neck was back to prickling, knowing something is happening and not knowing what it was. A harder thrum of a headache, now near his temple, beat almost in symphony with the tantalizing music.

“Just watch and enjoy the show, boy,” the Lady said, voice dripping with false sweetness that could kill. “My people are more than competent without a manager.”

Kirishima clenched his jaw. For a good count of ten, he was still then all of a sudden, he turned off his mic, faced the darkened corner and let out a heartfelt string of curses until his face was red.

“Wow, was that Russian?” A voice asked him from the bar. 

His head whipped to his right. A gorgeous blond male with a beauty mark under his lip with languid pools of blue eyes met his gaze. He had his face cradled on his hand, looking at him expectantly, mirth playing on his lips.

The substitute manager cleared his hardened throat and straightened himself, unconsciously running his hand through his hair on the side. “Ah...yes.” He couldn’t help but answer. “Russian with a bit of Chinese thrown here and there. I find Japanese and English...quite lacking.” He ended the sentence carefully. 

“My, my,” the blond bartender’s eyes widened and he reached forward more, his torso almost all the way out on the bar top. “How honest.”

Green eyes assessed the playful bartender with suspicion while he cleared his throat again, his face not even showing any of his thoughts. He decided to play dumb and clumsy, two things that will never be part of his identity. “Ah...it’s my first night...and it’s getting rowdy and—“

The blond bartender waved his sentence away, as if fully understanding the bullying he felt from Icon’s Lady. “You’ll get used to it, don’t worry. Drink?”

“Shot of Dalmore.” He answered immediately, longing for the bottle on Asami’s table. “12 years or anything you have but just make it a Dalmore.”

The blond bartender had an eyebrow raised with his request. Without saying anything, he hopped back to his place and proceeded to fix him the drink. In the few seconds the bartender was distracted, Kirishima mentally searched through everything he read about the bar, its employees and history.

“Have a Dalmore 18. It’s your first night.” The bartender had his arm stretched toward him cutting his mental recall. 

He took the crystal glass with a nod to the bartender. “Thank you, Shuu.” 

Shuu winked at him with a grin and turned to wait on another patron who approached the bar top.

While the substitute manager was excusing himself being on duty and still having a shot of hard liquor, his floor was getting noisier and rowdier. Men were standing up and some were even yelling. He looked at the now empty glass longingly and reluctantly placed it on the bar. 

“Back up, standby to the floor,” He said after turning on his mic while resuming his position with the best vantage point of Icon’s floor, seeing as how the crowd of patrons were getting easily affected by the provocative dance onstage and it was still the opening act. The beat by his temple was getting louder and it wasn’t because of the music.

“Sir,” a chorus of voices acknowledged him.

While red lace was thrown off the stage and the yells became roars, some patrons were reminded firmly and with utmost skill, to remain in their seats during performances. 

On the other hand, Yamazaki Nobu was unsatisfied. He had his mouth in a hard line while drinking shot after shot of the liquor on his table. He was unsatisfied even though the dancers were undeniably sexy and the mood was perfect. He found them disturbingly still clothed while he was expecting naked performances when he heard repute of the bar he was currently in. Sure, their table was nearer the stage, but they were on the side. Fine, the decor and interiors spoke of taste and class but it wasn’t apparent. Most of all, what was irking this Yamazaki was, he was getting a hard on more from the male dancer in the gray suit than the girl in red or even the one clad in black. 

“Why aren’t they taking off their clothes?” 

“Yeah, boss! I was thinkin’ the same!” 

“I thought we’ll see ourselves live sex on stage!” Another cackled.

“That fairy dancin’ s’not able to handle ‘em two girls!”

The table erupted in loud and rambunctious laughter and jeers, like a pack of hyenas, attentions to their prey or in this case, the dancers onstage.

When the next red laced glove flew their way, his men all scrambled to get to it first. Two of his boys ended up reaching it at the same time, grasping each ends. They ended up in a tug of war and then shoving and then cussing at each other which made two floor guards start to approach. 

“Kanzaki! Reo!” He yelled at them, not wanting to be in a scene when the performances just started. 

Reo, the younger of the two, ended up letting go of his end of the glove, surprised when he heard his boss’ shout on the now quiet bar. Kanzaki whooped and shoved him away, twirling the red glove over his head victoriously which earned some cheers from the tables around them.

“Sirs, please remain seated while the performance is ongoing.” It was Kirishima who was half-bowed to Yamazaki, indicating he needed to reign in his companions.

“Yeah, yeah, send your bouncers away,” the older man waved him off, heat rising to his face, realizing the music had stopped and more lights were on. “We want to enjoy the show in peace.”

“The next performance is more intimate and will have the dancers move to your table,” Takato started as he moved forward. Kirishima paled on hearing this while Yamazaki’s pulse quickened and his boys cheered noisily. “Sirs, we need you all to sit down or the performance will not proceed.”

Kirishima looked at his floor that was a mixture of frustration and anger at having the dance stopped for so long. He briefly passed his eyes to the center table and was surprised at the four figures now present there. 

“Manager! Have you settled your floor yet?” The Lady demanded in his ear, cutting whatever thought he had. 

“Give me a sec,” he muttered under his breath, realizing that Takato was still explaining they were part of the performance to ensure nobody will harass or disrupt the dancers.

“If you will keep complaining about their presence, sirs, there are other tables I can place you at, farther from the stage.” 

Kirishima just knew...just knew, somehow, he heard Suoh chuckle even though he was glaring down at Yamazaki and his men.

Kanzaki, who was already irritated, stood up, making his chair fall behind him. “Who do you—“

“Sit down!”

The command was hard and surprising which  instantly hushed the impatient murmurings of the floor. The Lady of Icon was on the stage, walking towards them. “I will not have my show disrupted further because of raging hormones.” 

Steel blue eyes sweeped the bar’s patrons and ended at Yamazaki’s table. “Would you allow us to go on or shall I have you escorted from the building, sir?” The Lady’s head angled as if speaking to a child. Yamazaki was as red and dark as the cushion of the chair he was seating on. 

“Pardon my men’s...ah, enthusiasm,” He said from where he sat. “Manager, please, McCallan 25 to the house as an apology.”

Eyebrows rose. Murmurs swept through the bar. Kirishima pushed up his frameless glasses while signaling floor staff to prepare the order. “That’ll be a bottle of McCallan, 25 years, sir, to all the tables?”

“There. Well,” the Lady turned to address the floor. “Once everybody gets their bottle, we shall resume.” She exited gracefully with a swish of her dress.

Kirishima’s first night as the substitute manager was the most profitable for the bar to date. Imagine, sixteen expensive bottles of whisky, in less than three hours of the bar’s opening. He really did have this pompous brat of a man to thank. 

While his staff efficiently distributed a bottle per table, he ended up grabbing one to deliver himself.

“Compliments of the gentleman,” he bowed, offering the bottle. 

“Ah, it’s you. What are you doing working here? Better question, can _that_ really afford this much?” A soft voice wondered out loud, flipping his long, long ebony hair off his shoulder, bringing his glass to his lips. “Elite swine.”

“Now, now,” another chastised gently. “It’s quite entertaining.”

“I’d rather have that dancer in gray entertain me,” the long haired one said wistfully, eyes to the stage. “Personally.”

Suoh started to clear his throat. 

“He’s mine, Fei,” Asami said abruptly, eyes staring down his companion. “I don’t share, even if it’s you.”

“We’ll see about that,” brown eyes glinted mischievously, looking sideways to the light golden eyes trying to bore a hole into him. “I do remember us enjoying...”

“Unfortunately, sirs,” Kirishima clearing his throat, still at a half-bow, said, cutting him off. “We cannot offer any private sessions tonight.”

Fei Long clicked his tongue, displeasure crossing his fine features. 

An ebony eyebrow arched up.

Kirishima started to feel sweat gathering by his neck as the full impact of the golden gaze turned on him. 

Suddenly, the lights of the bar started to dim and with another bow, Kirishima departed from the table, wondering why the two were together.

Whistles and yells started from his floor once again after the music started in a fashionable remix.

“Stop people from coming in, we’re more than a full house already,” he spoke with a low voice, eyes scanning the number of heads on his floor. 

“Yes, sir,” Kou answered him over the commnet. “I may need another guard out here as there’s still a line.”

“Gin, go back up outside,” Takato said immediately, looking around the floor, ticking off the guards present tonight. “Sir, I may need you for Aki when he gets on the table.”

Kirishima headed to Takato’s side by the stage up front as all three dancers entered and began dancing again to such a provocative beat. He didn’t know if he was starting to get warm because of the shot of liquor he had or the general feel of the bar.

_Oh no, oh no, here — here we go again_

“What am I supposed to do?” The substitute manager asked the security and overall staff leader of the night. He was getting nervous as if he knew this ‘Aki’ could just very well be the tantalizing dancer in gray.

_Fighting over what I said_

“The three will proceed to dance on the tables on center, stages right and left. They’ll each have a spotlight on them while they dance so for the time they’re not in spotlight, we just have to be sure nobody manhandles them.” 

“What the—“ The feeling of dread came back. “Who approved such a setup!?”

_Bad at love, no, I'm not good at this_

“Sir, it’ll be less than two minutes.” Takato continued, unfazed and as if already used to what’s about to happen. “The staff are already asking the patrons to leave some space between them and the table. We ask them to keep their hands to themselves and if they cannot, they will be escorted out by Hiei and Shou who’s watching the floor, too. Since Mari is supposed to dance at stage left, I’ll take that table. You, sir, will be at center with Aki. Hiei and Shou are near Wen.”

_And all my friends, they know and it's true_

“Two men outside, one by the bar, four more at the exit. Two by the dressing room, two back stage. One in charge for the night.” The substitute manager ticked off the twelve on duty. “Is that efficient or would there be a problem if it’s this...ah, packed?”

Takato looked uneasy but then gave a shake of his head, pressed his mic off and answered truthfully, “I need at least six more whenever Aki goes on stage.” He pressed his mic back on. “I think you’ll be able to handle those on center.”

He meant Aki was going to gyrate and dance on top of Asami’s table. Kirishima’s jaw went slack. Cold fingers gripped his throat tight and ran their talons down his back. For a few moments, his mind wheeled at that information. He desperately looked left then right.

“Aki usually dances on the center table,” his lead security said, as if understanding Kirishima’s train of thought. “Having just two earlier was ideal but four patrons is still better than the Yamazaki party or the dozen on the other side.”

Fingers of ice slid over Kirishima’s neck and back again as the magnitude of trouble Takato hinted at what may happen if the most provocative on stage would end up on the table with most patrons. 

_I don't know who I am without you_

Red and black sequined dresses flashed as both dancers spun, their pelvis circling with the urgency of meeting the gray dancer, who was, at the moment, at a Y-shape, dangling upside down with legs apart on the pole. 

The red dancer moved in front, while black moved behind, slim bare hands reaching over the junction of the dancer’s legs and began caressing him. The girl in front did a split and arched her back, arms reaching towards the gray dancer who was still upside down.

Possessive arms grabbed and kept him from touching the girl below him, tantalizing both audience and man, with how her hands were roving over his legs and now-bare torso.

_I got it bad, baby_

At the punctuation of the remixed line, legs flattened, parallel to the floor, the Y now a T, while both girls held their position and froze. The music scratched and rewound, bringing again the lines and the beginning of the song at staccato slowness.

While gray dancer danced his way, graceful of limb and arms towards his intended table, both girls on stage turned to the other amorously which made every male patron in the bar stand up and cheer.

_Oh, tell me you love me_

“Excuse me,” he murmured and laid on his back on top of the table, his arms away from his head at a relaxing angle, his knees bent and relaxed angled towards the side. His chest was heaving but he needed the quiet minutes to rest as much as he could after being upside down for so long. He closed his eyes.

Asami’s hand twitched on his side. 

Kirishima and the rest of the table saw the movement and he started muttering a prayer.

_I need someone on days like this, I do_

“How utterly delectable,” Fei Long drawled, licking his lips unconsciously as his gaze lazily surveyed the body laid before him. 

“Indeed,” Asami said, his eyes boring on the pale arms that were artfully raised but poised hanging by the table. His gaze traveling from the dancer’s slack hands that were still in graceful pose, towards the bare chest that gleamed with a faint sheen of sweat, towards both limbs that extended farther than the table. The dancer was still heaving, clearly from the exhaustion of being on the pole. 

Another cheer roared from the crowd but the patrons seated on the center table paid no heed except for the dancer on theirs.

Kirishima prayed harder, his body strung and coiled in tension.

_On days like this_

The light turned on their table, blackening its periphery. The dancer sat up in a move which lifted his chest agonizingly slow, his head still tilted back. Then he suddenly turned to his left, at Asami, and lifted his arm to him and reached. 

_Oh, tell me you love me_

Masked eyes looked on to a still figure in the dark as his hand splayed out as if intending to hold the patron. He lifted his lower body, gyrated, until he was on his knees, his hands back on his face in torment.

_I need someone_

He was unconsciously mouthing the words and reaching towards the same figure, while he danced, his knees opening and closing, rocking his pelvis forwards. 

_On days like this, I do_

He brought back his hand to himself, cradled emptiness and looked as if accusing the seated figure’s indifference.

_On days like this_

He threw out both his hands and turn to his right, reaching out desperately for someone to hold him.

_Oh, can you hear my heart say_

Fei Long almost reached forward when Kirishima spoke, “sir, please keep your hands to yourself.”

_No, you ain't nobody 'til you got somebody_

Gray dancer bowed, his forehead on the table, his body racked with sadness as both his two lovers were apparently together and left him, his right fist banging on the table twice, simultaneously when he curved and rounded his back.

_You ain't nobody 'til you got somebody_

Both hands reached on the edge of the table, grabbed with desperate fingers with a purpose, and kicked his feet up in the air, flipped to a standing position, facing the table.

He looked disdainfully down at them, flicked his right hand over his shoulder and jauntily walked away and the spotlight on him turned off to the roar of the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody still interested on how this story goes? (sweat drop)
> 
> I'm sorry for the late posting! Asami wanted more air time but Kei held him back...then Fei Long decided to join the party just as Aki got the spotlight in the club (laughs weakly)
> 
> I'm letting the characters do what they want and I'm as surprised as any of you. Writing has never felt more liberating. I'm excited where this is going to go. Am I heading in the right direction, I wonder?
> 
> Speaking of direction... I am moving to Japan so things are very hectic lately so I hope to read your messages and kind comments when I'm more settled in! I'm also changing my username as I've drafted some naughty scenes already ;>
> 
> Thank you for the wait! I hope you enjoyed this installment!
> 
> _/ 15 June 2018_


	7. Racers, Ready!

> _“How amazing it is to find someone who wants to hear about all the things that go on in your head.”_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _// Nina LaCour_

**_07/ Racers, Ready!_ **

“Please, God, I-I w-was just following orders,” the bloodied man wept by his feet, crouched down, his forehead on the gravel.

“Who do you work for?” Suoh Kazumi all but roared at the man cowering, his fists ready to strike.

Asami Ryuichi looked down on the bloodied man groveling. He raised a few fingers slightly and without saying anything, Suoh stepped backward. Hazel eyes, now hardened and gleamed gold, surveyed the bodies strewn across the floor of the office. Seeing as none were theirs, he crouched to the man now speaking in a different language. 

“Look at me.”

His voice was chillingly soft but it cut across the man’s desperate cries. 

“You will tell me who paid you to sabotage me.” 

Burnt gold eyes stared at him and he started speaking in two different languages if only to relinquish his soul from the torment.

After about a few minutes of stammering in bilingual phrases, Asami had heard enough. “Suoh,” he said as he stood up, giving a command that was already understood.

A bullet fired through a silencer in one precise shot and the man slumped forward, now quiet. 

“No need for clean up,” Asami said, not bothering to look back as he exited. “Let them know I’m not afraid of any attempts to my life or anything I do.”

Suoh was surprised at the bored statement from his friend but he thought it wise not to say anything. He was telling Kirishima.

Both men entered a fortified BMW 7-Series usually issued just for dignitaries and diplomats. It was luxury and armor in one. It was Kirishima and Suoh’s requirement for their friend who cared less about his life, which worried the two a lot. 

“Home or office?” 

“Cup.” 

Suoh blinked once, twice, and promptly closed his mouth. He drove in silence as was customary but his destination was anything but.

When the car slowed down to a stop, Asami flicked a glance towards the cafe and started to open his door, breaking protocol. 

“Ichi, stop.” Suoh said, voicing his displeasure. “I’m opening the door for you. We’ve been through this already.”

Asami leveled his gaze towards him and dropped his hand from the handle. His jaw clenched but didn’t say anything. 

Suoh took that cue to get out from his side and to open Asami’s door. He half-bowed. “Asami-sama.”

“Leave me here until I send for you.” 

“You have a—“

“Kami, don’t make me repeat myself.” Golden eyes blazed and cut through whatever the giant was supposed to say. 

Suoh’s lips tightened in a hard line and bowed his head. “Asami-sama.” He was chief of operations but if the point person for meetings and conferences is not in attendance, then how would they even operate? Suoh glared at the ground until his footsteps couldn’t be seen anymore.

——

Asami Ryuuichi entered the cafe, his second visit weeks after the first. It was also a couple of days after his sojourn to Icon. The delectable body that writhed and enticed on the table in front of him was branded to his eyes that whenever he closed them, he could see the gray silk blindfold, pale white skin and enticing limbs he’d want to be wrapped in.

His jaw clenched again, annoyed by his uncontrollable errant thoughts. He was Tokyo’s ruling overlord, for crying out loud. Here he was, acting like a hormonal high school teenager, too bothered by a strip dance.

“Welcome to Cup, what’ll it be today?” A familiar voice greeted him.

Asami found himself pulled in by shining light gray eyes.. or was it hazel? He approached the counter without taking his eyes off the welcoming blond with fascinating light eyes. How can his eyes be so sparkling? 

“Fifty Shades, extra hot.”

“Alright, extra hot Fifty Shades,” the barista said, turning to punch the order in. Asami wanted those eyes on him again.

“Love.”

The fingers faltered and light eyes shot back at his. “E-excuse me?”

Asami took in everything as he was carefully watching his every move. Without showing anything outward, his insides felt like cheering. He unsettled the barista. That was a first step.

“Ah, the Love-wich,” Asami said, synchronizing with his eyes towards the menu.

The barista’s faced flushed dark like his maroon apron. Asami’s lips lifted as his eyes turned back toward him. The boy was truly fascinating. 

“Ah. Uhm, right. L-love. The L-Love-wich,” the barista stammered, swallowing, forcibly dragging his eyes from the tall customer with the unnerving eyes to the monitor. 

Asami waited patiently, warmth blossoming on his chest. It was hard to keep himself from grinning but he was just able to do so. There was something about the boy that made him smile easily, more than anything in his life. To think he just came from an ambush, his life targeted, his business endangered and yet, here he was, keeping himself from grinning like a fool. 

All because of this boy.

His mouth suddenly flattened in a hard line at what that implied. 

The barista cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling panic settle in on his chest seeing the customer’s expression. “So, it’s an extra hot Fifty Shades and Love.”

“Yes.”

Takaba Akihito puffed out his warm cheeks, his blush was like having a perpetual mask on. He muttered to himself.

“Would you say that again?”

Lord, the voice the customer came with should be illegal. It was deep and soft at the same time, alluring and sexy... damn it, he’s at work, not at Icon or a pick-up club. 

He shook his head, the asymmetrical bangs, covering more of his eye. “What size?”

At the same time, Asami’s thoughts were straying and he was actually envisioning the fascinating barista as his bed partner. He was just thinking about the most appropriate paddle for a man his stature when he was asked the question. He blinked. “Pardon me?”

“The Fifty Shades,” the barista hurriedly pointed out.

Entangled limbs, sexual positions, chains, leather, whips and the red room came to mind. _Oh, yes._ The warmth that settled inside him seem to spark and spread more, firing a line toward his gut. Outwardly, he just raised his right eyebrow. 

“W-what size?”

 _Extra large, if you’d have me._ Asami was unable to contain his grin. “What do you prefer?”

The alluring redness of the barista’s face seem to deepen. His eyelashes fluttered downward. Asami barely stopped himself from licking his lips.

The barista burst out a laugh then. It was a low breathy chuckle, entirely too attractive. Then he started fanning himself. He blew out air with a sound. His cheeks pink. “My, it’s warm in here, huh.”

Asami’s smile widened. He can’t help himself. The gaze between him and the barista was electric. 

“Right, size,” the barista said, shaking his head again, a smile playing on his lips. “Oh, man, for Fifty Shades, I can only do a regular.”

“Really now.”

“Yup,” he nodded, forcing his eyes anywhere but the hot golden gaze of the customer’s. “Palpitations, you know.”

“Like what you’re feeling right now?” Asami said, and in the same breath, “Regular it is, then.” He winked to rounded light eyes. He didn’t give the barista time to reply. He flicked a black card on the terminal and left the front. _Come and catch me._

——

Takaba Akihito shook his head, his cheeks still feeling hot from the blatant flirting exchanged between the customer. He pressed the back of his hand to one cheek and then to the other. He remembered his height and presence. Was his gaze so mind-consuming before? He realized he neither could see nor hear anything when he looked into those intriguing yellow eyes. He remembered being given a card.

His hand went to his back pocket instantly. He fished out a crumpled and worn out black card. He probably threw his jeans in the washer with it.  _Asami Ryuuichi_ , it read in a tasteful gold-colored emboss. He put the crumpled name card back in his pocket and felt his chest flutter.

He frowned. 

“Order,” Grace called from the kitchen. 

He went to get the sandwich from the window counter and gave a smile. He then brewed and poured the concoction which made the drink and placed both on a tray. 

He wiggled his legs in anticipation, loosening himself up. There was a constant flutter in his stomach and the hair on his arms were raised. His cheeks were still warm.

“Want me to bring that for you, Aki?”

He turned toward Dan. “I got this.”

Dan raised an eyebrow but said nothing and started cleaning up the espresso machines.

Asami Ryuuichi sat at the very back of the coffeeshop where most whips, chains and paddles were in artful display. It incited a heady environment that even the strongest of spirits would feel hot but it unfazed the tycoon. He was used to them, after all. 

That was the scene that greeted Akihito when he delivered the order. He already felt warm from the perpetual blush on his face but seeing that face, that presence and those eyes surrounded by chains and whips... he stopped himself before he started to lick his lips. He ended up biting it. 

The flash of a pink tongue and those teeth biting on a lower lip almost made Asami groan. Almost.

He had never felt this way about anybody, most especially someone he had just met.. randomly. He had both women and men partners but they were either too coy or too forward. Plus, there was always an intent, either for business or for whatever purpose. 

“Here’s your extra hot Fifty Shades and Love,” Akihito said placing his order on the table in front of the customer. He had to pay extra attention to what he was doing since he might spill on what looked like an expensive tailored suit. 

“Love’s a bit messy, isn’t it?”

Akihito’s eyes snapped upward. He saw the customer looking at the sandwich. He laughed weakly, more at himself. “Yup, love’s really messy.”

The golden eyes were warm when it met his. A dark eyebrow arched. 

Akihito felt himself blush once more. “Well, it _is_ messy,” He raised his chin up. “How could it not be? Two different human beings wanting to get together... Where is the order in two different universes trying to be one? It’ll be good at first with all the attraction and zing but when the sun comes up, the sex cools down, responsibilities come in, what then?” 

Asami looked down on his cup raised halfway to his lips. His little spitfire was a jaded one. “Do you have a name?”

Akihito was about to turn around and head back to the counter when he was asked the question. “I’m sorry, name?”

Asami sipped his drink carefully. “The name of the cooled down sex and lost zing.”

Akihito blinked. The customer was able to follow his train of thought. That impressed him. “The past belongs where it is, the past.” He shrugged. 

“Was there more than one that made you so.. ah, hardened against love?”

Was he having a conversation about relationships and love with this attractive customer? Akihito bent his head to the side, lost in thought whether to answer seriously or to brush it off. 

“Love’s delicious.”

Akihito’s thoughts were interrupted and his gaze went back to the customer. He was chewing a mouthful of the sandwich and made a humming sound. He smiled despite himself.

Asami’s insides felt shot with lightning. He suddenly forgot to know how to chew, staring at the barista. 

“Aki, I’m going for a break!” A voice boomed from the front.

Asami’s eyes narrowed but when he turned to the barista, his eyes warmed by volumes. “Aki?”

“Ah,” he smiled again. “Takaba Akihito.”

An incline of the head. “Asami Ryuuichi.”

Akihito grinned again, took out the tattered card from his back pocket. “I know.”

Asami chuckled. Something warm started spreading inside Akihito. “I hope you just forgot about my card in your pants to make it that.. er, used.”

Light eyes sparkled again. “Oh, it’s a secret power I always keep with me,” he said over his shoulder, he winked at the customer and promptly did an about face and walked away. _Come and get me._

Asami caught himself laughing when the movement seemed familiar to him. 

That’s odd, why did it felt like he had seen him do that before? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I should change the rating to all fluff? (Laughs weakly) 
> 
> I’m sorry to those who are waiting for the _shibari_ and smutty scenes! 
> 
> In other news, I’m in Japan! I’ve yet to find a more permanent place to move in so it’s quite hectic! Hopefully, I’ll be able to settle down in the next three weeks so I can write more. As it is, I’m writing and updating on my mobile. If there are spelling or grammar mistakes, I apologize.
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated! _Kinda like, should I write more like this? Stop? Just concentrate on PWP?_
> 
> See you in the next installment~
> 
> _/ 09 July 2018_


	8. I Claim You So Proud and Openly

**_08/ I Claimed You So Proud and Openly_ **

“Do you think he’ll need another Hiro?” Suoh Kazumi asked, turning the wheel towards the building that was their base of operations. He had Kirishima on his Bluetooth earpiece the instant he was back alone in the car.

A long sigh was heard. “I don’t know,” Kirishima Kei said honestly. “He made me infiltrate this strip bar for an unspecified purpose. But more importantly, who orchestrated the ambush?”

Suoh scoffed. “You mean those amateurs? What concerns me more is the leak in Ichi’s itinerary. Who else has access to the restricted files aside from you and me?”

Kirishima cursed under his breath. “We’ve recently added the sec assists.”

“The secretarial assists? I thought that’s headed by...”

“Shinji resigned, remember? ‘Making it on his own’ or whatever.”

“Then they’re back to you then,” Suoh said, parking the car. He was eager to let off his adrenaline now turned frustration in the gym. The building called ‘Scion I’ came with commercial and residential spaces, a two-floor gym, a pool and recreation area, a private training floor for Scion employees and Suoh’s staff, the strictest parking garage and more importantly, a helipad and escape room as well. 

“I don’t think so. Sec assists are day-to-day operations, Kami,” Kirishima’s voice was laced with mirth. “They only trained under me for efficiency.”

“Screw efficiency. There’d be no need for a whole new unit if Ichi calms down or you come back, whichever comes first.”

“When do you think that’ll be?” Kirishima wondered. “We may add a strip bar to our roster of establishments first from the way I see it.”

Suoh got lost in thought, looking up at the parking elevator that would bring him up to the offices. He sighed remembering their friend in question. “He’s... looser again, Kei. I don’t know what to make of it. He didn’t care about being targeted, he didn’t even order a cleanup. I don’t know if he’s bored with his life but I think he needs a new... er, master.” _Or a new pet_ , he mused.

Kirishima stopped his perusal of Icon’s accounts on his monitor. He glanced at his mobile phone to be sure it was still Kami that he was talking to. “Did I hear you right, Kami? You? Speaking of _that_ type of relationship?”

Suoh’s eyes narrowed. “Shut it, Kei. We’re talking about Ichi here. I’m telling you, if one of us screws up or he keeps courting danger as adamant as he does, he’ll end up with a bullet or worse.”

Kirishima sat back on his seat, stretching his lower back. There was a tightness that wasn’t there earlier so he stood up and walked around his desk. “Did he order any punishment to be mete out?”

“Fortunately, no. He looked damned bored when we were surrounded. Good thing I was backed up by some of the guys. There were around a dozen, Kei. Ichi looked like he was crossing the street.”

“At least there’s no creative punishments yet.”

“At least.” Suoh agreed. If there were, it’d be harder to eat again but he dare not say anything to the one who called the shots.

“Alright, I’ll call _him_ if this persists. I was hoping he’d be distracted sooner rather than later,” Kirishima admitted remembering the dancer clad in gray. “There’s that boy...”

“He’s at Cup, Kei.”

Suoh’s interruption made Kirishima breathe a little better. If it weren’t for the small things, he thought.

“Isn’t he still with that broadcaster though?”

“Not for long,” Kirishima guessed. If Asami Ryuuichi was bored and indifferent enough not to be mad because of an ambush, that means something needs to change: a challenge, a new bed partner, or even a new venture, which Kirishima hoped wouldn’t be the case. They were already earning more than they needed as it is. It was taking too much to manage them all. 

Suoh reached the floor of their company. Scion Trade and Properties was up and running even without the three to oversee it. “I wish he’d settle down, Kei,” He said quietly, revealing what he honestly thought.

Kirishima didn’t know what to say to his friend. “You keep thinking that, Kami. I’ll see you later.” He ended the call without waiting for his friend’s reply. Kirishima looked down at the bar that he was overseeing for close to a month now. He made a decision right then and there. _It’s for everyone’s sanity_ , he reasoned. _It should be okay._

——

“Would you like a drink?” The boy clad in a royal blue _haori_ asked him. He knelt in between his legs and the table, one side opened to a thin shoulder revealing unconventional marks on the young man’s body.

“Whisky, neat,” he answered, his gaze taking in the alluring nape that was bent over. He also had a tattoo just below the back of his neck, a minimalist tiger outline. It was sexy. 

The young man shivered on his order, liking what he heard underneath his words. “Would you like to drink it here or...”

His eyes lit with amusement at the blush staining the young man’s cheeks. “Come sit on my lap and feed me the drink,” he beckoned, his hand outstretched, his palm faced upwards.

The young man shivered again, fire lighting up his groin, anticipating what’s to come. This customer was exactly his type: tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, with an impressive aura, and he looked like he was _really good at sex_ , no matter how he wants it. He licked his lips slowly.

The man leaned back on the plush leather sofa and waited, hand still outstretched. 

The young man poured approximately two fingers-breadth of the expensive liquor. Like an expert, he picked up the glass with one hand and with the other, demurely held the sleeve of his _haori_. The act was so dainty and graceful, the man smiled. 

The young man held unto his hand. “Excuse me,” the young man murmured softly, while he sat himself gingerly on the man’s lap. The glass, held away to not spill on either of them. When he settled himself on the hard lap, he faintly smelled cigarettes and a musky, attractive odor coming from the warm body so near him. It made his mouth dry. 

“Come, take a sip and pass it to me,” the man urged again in that low seductive tone. 

The young man thought it was done without thought. The man practically didn’t need any techniques to seduce someone. A warm large hand was placed on the middle of his back, urging him.

He took a small sip of the potent liquor that bit on his tongue. He turned to his left and looked at eyes similar to that of a predator. They were leveled at him. 

The man leaned forward while he raised his face, their lips meeting. In that instant, he was devoured. A hot probing tongue invaded in and while he concentrated on passing on the liquid in his mouth, the man gripped the back of his neck with a strength that made him whimper, making him swallow the liquid a bit while some escaped the side of his mouth. The sound made the man practically growl low in his throat. They kissed for what seemed like several minutes until the liquor couldn’t be tasted anymore.

The young man reluctantly pulled away. Even so, he kept his open lips near the man’s, breathing in whatever the man breathe out.

“More.” The growl was understood which promptly made the young man turn to swallow more liquid. The man grabbed his neck without letting him finish his gulp, slamming his open mouth on the boy’s, their tongues tingling with the spicy liquor, their groins fired up with heat.

It didn’t matter that he was drinking more than he was passing. His head felt heavy. He was so turned on his groin was aching. He waited near the man’s mouth again, both of them breathing heavily. He licked his lips then decided to lick the man’s. 

“Do you want to continue, little one, or would you like to play now?” 

The glass was almost empty. “Play,” he said hoarsely. 

The man chuckled. “Come, let’s limber you up.” He swept the young man off his feet, easily carrying him. The young man’s arms went around his neck as if used to being held that way. With one hand under the young man’s thighs, he got the glass from his hands, emptied it and settled it down on the table.

“Now, what room do we have and how long have I got?”

The young man whispered in his ear.

“Don’t worry, we’ll use every bit of those two hours,” he murmured. 

The young man could hardly wait.

——

_He was in agony._

He was being pushed off the bed as something powerful slammed again and again at him. He was grabbing at the sheets to be kept from moving. He was being pummeled by the man’s very hard and large cock and he couldn’t stop himself from making sounds or cumming for that matter. How many times had he come? Two? Three?

The _haori_ was still around his waist, already a mess of sweat and semen. He cried out again as the man jerked forward, the front of his thighs, slamming on the back of his with a satisfying hard slap. The slaps and jerks continued on and on and he felt being grounded in while being braced on all fours. It didn’t matter the bed was fitted by luxurious sheets, the man was too strong and his thrusts too powerful that he felt his knees and hands slowly but surely get abraded. 

His own cock was straining, leaking profusely from all the stimulation he was getting. “Nnghh,” he groaned as his sweet spot was hit on again and again. He closed his eyes, letting the euphoric, wild mating build up. 

“Not yet,” the man huskily said, grabbing his ankles from behind him and turning him over. He gasped as he suddenly found himself on his back, his two legs up in front of him, the man almost folding him in half. 

The man caressed him from the back of his heel down to the back of his knees on one side first and then another. He felt those hands push the back of his knees further towards him, spreading himself indecently open to the man. His backside felt numb, gaping and empty, especially after the rigorous onslaught for what seemed like hours. He wanted something inside him and he wanted it now. He whimpered in need. 

While he vaguely saw the man line up his cock to him, his eyes inadvertently rolled back as he was entered in one smooth and swift thrust, a burning in his back side making him moan out loud. 

“You take me so well,” the man praised and he felt like humming. The back of his neck was prickling and a fire boiled under his gut. He felt so full as he was once again ravaged with rhythmic thrusts more powerful than the first. 

He grabbed at the sheets beside his head as his whole body jerked upwards while large hands brought him down to hard thrusting hips. He groaned as the man did, their flesh slapping and meeting together. 

“I.. Hnghh, I-I can’t,” He gasped out as another slam made it feel as if the man was hitting his head rather than the sweet spot on his prostate. His own hard cock was straining now, leaking clear fluid. 

“Sure, you still can,” The man crooned, his words each punctuated by his hips pumping into the tight warm hole. The man changed positions, closed the young man’s slender thighs together, went up on his toes and began slamming forward. 

The young man unintentionally let out a yelp as a sure strong thrust of the man’s cock hit his prostate squarely hard. He moaned again. “N-no m-more..”

The man’s answer was a more powerful ramming of his cock in him. He was a mess. 

“D-don’t grow bigger!” He gasped as he felt his insides widen suddenly.

The man could have spoken but all he heard was a growl. He couldn’t keep still. He found himself on the edge of the bed, his hands clenching bed sheets desperately, his fingers burning. 

The man took both of his legs and put his feet up his shoulders beside his ears. It made him feel fuller. “Nghh!” he gasped, his eyes unseeing, his pupils dilated, his mind wiped off of anything save for the hard rutting of the man in him.

The young man’s arms trembled when he reached up to the man’s neck, trying to anchor himself. His legs fell to the bed and he grabbed hold of the man’s neck. The man didn’t even stop fucking him. 

The man groaned in approval when he sat astride him, both his legs wrapped around the man’s waist, impaling himself to him. Chest to chest, his nails grabbed on skin while he was thrusted to upwards.

His gasps and groans mixed with the slapping of their bodies and the squelching of his hole. How long was he being fucked? 

He felt his vision darkening as he was thrusted into again and again. He felt the bed sheets again and a heavy weight in front of him. The man grunted when he buckled up, squeezing him tight.

The man felt the young man go limp after another thrust. He sighed as another partner passed out on him. He grabbed the slim waist and thrusted harder, driving himself to the now unresponsive body to finish.

He grunted his release, his mouth flattened to a line. The body in front of him still slack. He withdrew himself and made sure to clean the boy as much as he can, as courtesy of course. 

The boy was pretty and lithe but not as striking as the one he wanted to ravaged. 

He got up and headed to shower. Before entering the bathroom, his phone suddenly vibrated, indicating a call. His brows drew together.

“Asami.” He answered the unlisted number. 

“A-ah, um, he... h-hello,” a hesitant voice that seemed familiar spoke.

His chest suddenly warmed and the hairs on his arms raised. “Hello.”

On the other end, Takaba Akihito unconsciously shivered, trying to bring his mobile phone a bit away from his ear. It was like the man was speaking to him too intimately. He bit the corner of his lip as goosebumps ran down his arms. 

“H-how’s it going?” He managed to stammer out, sounding more like himself.

Asami Ryuuichi found himself smiling but didn’t say anything. He seem to be leaning closer to his phone.

“Uhm, I-I called to say.. ah, hello, so hello!” Akihito squeaked out. He then slapped his hand on his eyes, face palming his own lameness. _What the f..._  he mouthed angrily.

“Hello, Akihito,” Asami said, his voice like velvet, mirth dancing on that low seductive tone. 

Akihito’s hands still covered his eyes. _Oh, my God_ , he mouthed with force this time, his goosebumps rising up his neck and ears.

“To what do I owe this pleasure of you calling?” 

“Ah. Er, you said y-you wanted to see me again...?”

His pulse seem to race then stop suddenly, making his chest ache. He grabbed at his chest, rubbing it with his open palm.

The silence was screaming.

Akihito headbutted the wall with a thud. How lame must he get!

Asami froze, his hand gripping his mobile phone.

“Uhm, w-wasn’t that what you said?” Akihito was still stammering. He cleared his throat embarrassingly and laughed a little. He shook his head hard. “Ah, you know, I-I’m sorry, I think I got the...”

“Where are you right now?” Asami suddenly cut his blathering.

“M-me?” Akihito squeaked out again. Why did his heart start beating so fast?

“Yes, Akihito. You don’t mind I call you Akihito instead of Takaba, right?” 

“Yes!” he suddenly gushed out. “I mean, no. No, I don’t mind being called Akihito.” 

The sexiest chuckle he ever heard two centimeters away from his ear made the goosebumps run their claws down his spine, if that’s possible. 

“Where are you right now, Akihito?” Asami asked again.

“I-I’m at Ico.." He cleared his throat suddenly. "I mean, I'm at Cup, on a break..”

“I’ll see you in half an hour or less.”

The line cut off.

Akihito brought his mobile phone, two centimeters away from his ear, down to his lap where he was surprised to find out that he was sitting on the floor of the lockers the dancers of Icon shared, too weak to be standing up. He realized he was shaking.

_Oh, God. Oh, my God, what the hell have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written a week ago when I happen to pass by a slim, fashionable blond guy in a royal blue _haori_ , one side off and loose, revealing his slim arms and tattoos. _I knew I just had to write him in._
> 
> Other than that, *clears throat awkwardly* how was it? Too much? Too lacking? Too sloppy? 
> 
> I'm all fidgety and anxious for your honest and kind comments~
> 
> Let's see each other again in the next installment! 
> 
> _P.S. I'm as surprised as you are, with this chapter._ (;´・`) >
> 
>  
> 
> _/ 19 July 2018_


	9. Lay With Me, I'll Lay With You

> _  
> "Dance, when you're broken open._
> 
> _Dance, if you've torn the bandage off._
> 
> _Dance in the middle of the fighting._
> 
> _Dance in your blood._
> 
> _Dance when you're perfectly free."_  
>  _ // Rumi _

_**9/ Lay with Me, I’ll Lay with You** _

Takaba Akihito found himself running on the streets of Shinjuku, his stomach all fluttery and light. 

He thought about the phone call that ended a few minutes ago and promptly shivered, remembering the voice that caressed him from ears, neck, to the very pit of his stomach. He hadn’t known he could be so turned on by just a voice until now. 

His destination was still a number of blocks away but he didn't think to ride the bus or train. He didn’t think he could be _contained_ inside a vehicle with how he’s feeling.

He felt like running a marathon or doing a forty minute dance improv. He was wired and antsy. He felt like skipping and jumping to expend the millions of butterflies fluttering inside him. 

As he stopped by an intersection, he couldn’t help but wonder when he last felt this way: elated, antsy, anxious, _excited_. 

He hasn’t been this excited in the longest time. He’s been going back and forth Cup and Icon for the past three months and a half and it seemed like his life has become just a routine. Sure, it was somewhat _interesting_ , but being a dancer or a barista wasn’t what he thought to be doing.

At the next stop of the intersection, his music was interrupted by a call. He pressed the pad on his wireless earphones since his phone was in his backpack.

“Akihito? It’s Asami.” The wonderful voice was again right smack inside his brain. Electricity traveled from the tips of the hair on his head down to his little toenails in a nanosecond. Thousands upon dozens of wings flew up and down his gut.

“A-Asami, I-I’m still a few blocks from Cup..” He said, his head down, his neck and ears unusually warm and tingly.

There was brief pause and Akihito promptly slapped his hand to his mouth. 

“A few blocks?” The voice was soft and displeased.

“N-no, I-I mean—”

“I don’t tolerate lying.”

The frigid tone spoke volumes, different from the warmth and playfulness he remembered. 

“In any case,” Akihito could hear Asami frowning which promptly made all the little wings in his stomach disappear. “I know we made plans but something came up,” Asami said brusquely. 

Akihito felt the warmth dissipate as something cold and dark began to grow from where the butterflies were. He suddenly felt foolish and too eager. Heat spread across his face like a brisk, powerful slap of reality. He didn’t know what to reply. 

_What should he say when there’s nothing asked of him?_

“Akihito?”

His mind raced yet silence came as the reply. Asami purposely made his voice back to being soft. “Akihito, I want to see you again. Do not misunderstand this unforeseen...” He gripped the phone tighter, at a loss for the right word. The powerful man accepted it begrudgingly, not used to the concept of ‘loss’, yet he didn’t offer any words of comfort or an apology. “I’ll be calling you again.”

He pressed his cheek closer to his mobile phone and held his breath. Golden eyes narrowed in concentration. His heartbeat quickened but he willed it to calm down. He counted three breaths then four. 

Five. _What should I say next? Should I arrange to meet him tomorrow?_

_But I need to meet with Kei and…_  Six. 

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he opened his mouth to speak again when— “Hmm,” was all Asami heard after a while. He looked at his mobile phone, realized he was gripping it too hard before unceremoniously ending the call. 

Suoh Kazumi was amazed at the sight of Asami’s lowered forehead to his phone. His hand went to his left inner pocket to take out his own. 

_I should call him again_ , Asami thought. The last conversation leaving a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Ready to go?” 

Suoh noted Asami glaring at his phone screen, as if in a silent battle with the gadget. He wondered what could be the reason but decided against overthinking it. After all, Kirishima was the one who coddles among the three of them. 

While Suoh discretely and successfully sent Kirishima the photo he just took, he saw Asami shake his head again. “To the penthouse.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm... hello (small wave)~ ヾ(°∇°*)
> 
> Anybody remember this little story of mine? (sweat drop)
> 
> I AM SO SORRY FOR BREAKING THE PROMISE TO DO WEEKLY/REGULAR UPDATES. _:(´□`」 ∠):_
> 
> You know what, there's no excuse for the time, but it's not like I stopped writing - okay, _I did, for a bit_ \- but the characters were all over the place and I just feel this little update may just open that intersection better... _I hope._
> 
> I mean, Aki was drunk in one edit _for reasons he cannot say_ , while there was another smutty scene _with God knows who_ , then Asami wanted some spotlight then... pbbffft. 
> 
> _*sighs heavily*_
> 
> Please don't unsubscribe!
> 
> _/ 17 October 2018_


	10. Just Hold Me, I'm Lonely

**_10/ Just Hold Me, I’m Lonely_ **

His eyes were unfocused and petulant as it stared at the bottle he was shaking, seeming to study the swirl and movement of the amber liquid inside.

When one of the overhead lights shone a certain way on the lazy pool of liquid, it flashed golden which reminded him of a pair of eyes he was trying desperately to forget - for the meantime, mind you - feeling all sorts of stupid and angry and foolish and just plain _embarrassed_. 

He drained his glass and winced at the burn of the alcohol, even though he wanted to feel it more, thinking he deserved it. _Serves you right for feeling all fluttery and flighty over a phone call! For somebody who didn't even meet up with you!!_ He cursed himself, heat emanating from his face and all over his body, not entirely sure if he was downright angry-embarrassed or drunk or maybe dangerously both. He poured himself another serving, more on the table than in his glass. 

“Takaba! What are you—” Sudou grabbed the liquor bottle from the hands of the lithe blond on his bar. “Give me that bottle! Didn’t you just clock out hours ago?”

“Heyyyyyyy Shuuuuuuu,” the blond swayed left, a huge smile plastered on his face, his right hand wobbly bringing the glass to his lips. He tried tilting the glass to drink but ended up just licking the rim as it was empty.

Sudou was at a loss and looked around. He spotted Takato standing discretely at the end of the bar, a few feet away and he raised his eyebrow. Asking what happened.

Takato shrugged and shook his head. Answering he didn’t know.

“Does Mama know you’re back? Do you still have a shift?” The bartender asked, surprised the bottle was back in the dancer's hands and now almost empty. “Oi! How much have you had?”

“Not enough,” came the bitter reply, as the bottle was once again taken from him. Takaba Akihito shrugged, raised the glass to his lips and drank a mouthful, blew up his mouth, winced and promptly made a big gulp.

Sudou sighed, lifted his finger to his earpiece when he caught Takato shaking his head sharply. Sudou glared at the head guard and motioned him forward.

When Takato was nearer the bar-top, Sudou spoke in a biting tone. “Aki’s smashed. In a gray sweater three sizes bigger for him, _literally screaming sex_. Unless you don’t want me reporting this to Mama or to that stud of a substitute manager, you take him to the lockers or one of the rooms upstairs. The second floor has been cordoned off indefinitely, anyway.”

“But—“

“I don’t care you’re still on-duty and he’s not. Mama put you in charge of him so get him off my bar. The customers are eyeing him already!”

True to his word, a quick glance gave the head guard the impression that the more inebriated patrons were egging each other and pointing at the bar — it was definitely not good to leave Takaba alone. He quickly escorted the drinking dancer up and away, deaf to his sputtering and annoyance.

“Let me go, Takato! I’m still drinking!” Takaba half-heartedly struggled, bringing one side of the sweater down more, exposing a creamy shoulder and his dark blue razorback tank. 

“Your glass is empty, Aki.” The head guard answered patiently, his hand gripping the dancer tighter on both shoulders. He caught the eye of another staff and motioned to follow him.

“What happened to Aki?” Kou asked worriedly, hurrying forward. 

“‘Eyyyyyyy Kou,” He sang in greeting, his legs crisscrossing in front of him. 

 Kou raises his eyebrows and looked at Takato who sighed. 

“Help me bring him upstairs, Kou.” 

The two struggled with the half-dancing, half-swaying sexy dancer on their way, and struggled they did. 

“I’ll be glad to take him off your hands, gentlemen,” a deep voice came from behind the three.

Takato stiffened while Kou shushed Takaba.

“I mean, it’ll be no trouble at all for me,” the deep voice congenially continued. While Takato refused to turn around and Kou was still trying to make Takaba quiet down, he said, “I can also pay for the time, if that’s what’s worrying—“

“Sir, I think you got the wrong impression of this bar.” Takato cut him off, looking daggers behind him, half-facing the patron who approached them.

A graceful hand swept long, long ebony hair off his shoulder. An elegant singular eyebrow raised. “Oh?” He said playfully, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I heard from quite the indisputable source that one can pay for.. ah, certain _privileges_.” 

Takato ground his teeth together but stayed put. Kou was trying to keep Takaba from singing or even looking at the patron behind them.

“Have you ever been duped, Kou?” Takaba asked the man holding him on his left. “Like dropped like a…” He made a noise with his lips, slurring his words. “Hot mess.. er, potato! Was it supposed to be potato? Hot potato!” He giggled, laughing in that irresistible way of his. 

“Aki, shush,” Kou pleaded, tightening his grip on the shoulder he was trying desperately holding up steady.

“I mean, we had a…” Takaba stopped, looking wounded like a kicked puppy and turned again to Kou, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I think... w-we had a d-date.” 

It was quiet, hesitant and sincere. Anyone who was paying attention could hear the world of hurt the sentence carried.

The long-haired beauty of a man was one such person. Now he wanted the sexy blond more. He flipped his hair towards his back and started courting the drunk blond. “How about I replace whoever you’re supposed to have a date with? Go on a date with me tonight, I’ll be sure to take care of you.”

Kou and Takato’s grip on Takaba’s shoulders were hard enough to leave marks but the dancer was unfeeling of it. He turned his head back, and gave the tall, elegant stranger with the long black hair a side-eye, liking what he sees. His mouth opened and he unintentionally swiped his tongue up his lips. “Take care of me huh.” Light eyes studied him, leisurely going down his person.

Warm chocolate-colored eyes gleamed with interest under the bar’s low lights, like a predator catching his prey’s scent. “Oh, yes, if you’d have me.” He crooned, moving forward, uncaring for the two others near them. It was only the light-eyed blond he cared about.

The light eyes that looked back at him was surprisingly clear for a drunk. “Have you, shall I? For all we know, you might not be able to handle all this,” He motioned to his front with a sweep of his hand even with the restraint of Takato.

“You want to try me then?” Mirth making the question light but his brown eyes were anything but. 

Takaba thought and thought hard he did. This was a total stranger, beautiful, but still a stranger.  _Asami's also a stranger_ , a voice in the back of his mind shouted at him, _and yet you were willing to meet up with him, all excited like an idiot!_ He narrowed his eyes, not keen to remember that he was stood up and flaked off.

All of a sudden, the world that he saw started tilting left, and he stumbled into Kou. The stranger was fast and instead of Takato righting both of them up before they fell, Takaba fell into the stranger’s strong, lean arms, laughing giddily.

He looked up to a dark halo of hair and warm eyes. “Falling for me, are you?” He said still giggling.

An elegant dark eyebrow rose. “Falling? Me? Who landed in my arms, you drunk beauty?”

Takaba burst out laughing, a sound that tinkled and teased and flirted at closed hearts and darker minds. “Ah, my bad,” he said sheepishly, a smile on his attractively red face from drink or embarrassment, the stranger couldn’t tell. 

“Let’s get you up,” He said, bringing the half-sprawled blond up, his hands grabbing too thin shoulders that were exposed. He righted the sweater, covering both shoulders, making the front dip low. He tried balancing the front and back part until he was satisfied.

Light eyes looked at the tall, long-haired, elegant stranger, while he looked down at the blond and to what his hands were doing. “You’re pretty.”

Brown eyes raised to light ones. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.” The elegant stranger replied dryly, used to the word. 

“Me? Pbffft.” The blond swayed again, waving an arm away, as if shooing the compliment off. The stranger held him firmly and close in front of him. 

“Have you seen yourself in a mirror?” The blond asked him incredulously, his voice a demand, his eyes wide, looking up at him with a sincere expression.

It was a first for the stranger not knowing how to respond. He looked at the light eyes and instantly felt something inside him start to unfurl, like the slow, lazy rise of smoke from a lighted incense. 

“What is this?” A harsh voice suddenly came from behind the four of them. 

Takato stepped forward and presented himself, “I was just escorting Aki upstairs, sir. Kou was leading the way.” 

An eyebrow shot up and green eyes glared at the two staff. His gaze fell to the lithe blond that felt familiar and strange at the same time in the hands of Liu Feilong, of all people. His eyes narrowed even more.

Green eyes met brown ones, challenging each other’s authority. Green eyes lowered as Kirishima half-bowed to the Chinese. “Sir, may I apologize for whatever trouble and bother my staff has caused you and.. may I politely and humbly request you to unhand him.”

As far as apologies go, it was probably a six out of ten but Feilong was more surprised at the fact the he was still grasping the lithe blond in front of him, thinking he had already dropped his hands after fixing his sweater. 

As if burnt, Feilong let go of the shoulders he was holding. Kirishima murmured a thanks as he and Takato both reached out to support the drunk blond. He then asked Kou to lead the long-haired man back to his prime seat of the club. 

The blond swayed again and Kirishima glared at Takato who righted him. “Why is he drunk?!”  

“I’m looooooonelyyyyyyyy,” the person in question answered beaming a full smile at the substitute manager.

Takato winced as Takaba started giggling at the concealed anger in the manager’s face. He tried shaking him to get him sober somehow. “Aki, quiet."

“Upstairs. Now.” The words were clipped and controlled as the manager led the way towards the stairs that would lead them to the second floor.

They entered an elegantly furnished room complete with a wide U-shaped leather sofa and a dancer’s pole in front of it. Takato gently led Takaba towards the sofa and once there, he started for the bar to try and get him to sober up with water.

“Aki? Akihito. Takaba Akihito,” The manager started. “Why are you drunk? Didn’t your shift end earlier?"

The dancer in question gave a giggle, much like that of a child’s. “It ended before it even began!” He said then burst out in laughter.

The laugh turned grating and forced and sad. The manager turned to the head guard who approached with water, raising an eyebrow, asking what happened. 

The head guard shrugged, answering he didn’t know. 

Kirishima’s neck began prickling with a hunch, forming a vague but inconceivable idea at the back of his mind. “Didn’t his shift ended earlier?”

Takato was barraged with questions as the staff-in-charge of the now-drunk Takaba.  

_Yes, he clocked out earlier. About fours ago._  
_No, he doesn’t know why Takaba came back._  
_No, he didn’t think to stop Takaba from drinking since he wasn’t on duty anymore._  
_Yes, he thinks this is unusual activity for Takaba but yes, this is how the usual drunk Takaba is._

__

Takato looked straight ahead as the substitute manager paced around him and fired off questions and he replied as much as he can.

__

“What did Fei.. what did the long-haired gentleman want?”

__

Takato cleared his throat and decided to just say it as it was said, “he offered to take Takaba from our hands and he was willing to pay.”

__

A flurry of Russian? Chinese? phrases came from the manager. Takato eyed him curiously. 

__

Kirishima glared at the room, snapping his mouth shut. “I’m changing the rules for now. This floor will be off-limits even to bar staff except for authorized cleaners. Make sure these cleaners are cleared by the senior guard on duty. Anyone who is caught will be fined. I have the Lady’s support on this one,” He added when Takato looked like he wanted to say something.

__

The head guard looked somewhat relieved. “For how long?”

__

Without meaning to, Kirishima’s gazed landed on the attractive male dancer who was slumped on the sofa, now asleep. He remembered what the Lady was telling him of two other dancers. His eyes narrowed. “Indefinitely." 

__

——

__

At the same time that Takaba was being ushered the second floor of the club, Fei Long narrowed his eyes and spoke in quiet command to his right-hand man. “Find out everything that you can about that blond. I want him. I don’t care Asami does too.”

__

Yoh bowed his head. “Fei Long-sama.” He acknowledged. He was about to leave when he was stopped.

__

“Stay with me tonight, Yoh. After feeling that blond’s body, I’d want... some contact.”

__

Yoh’s heart thudded against his chest. He bowed lower. “Fei Long-sama,” He murmured. “Would that be all?"

__

Fei Long looked from the stage, his glass in hand, to his right-hand man’s lowered head. He clicked his tongue on his subservience. “I’ll be leaving within the hour.” He said coolly. 

__

He was given another small nod and then Yoh was gone. He clicked his tongue again and brushed his long hair backwards. “So _not_ cute,” he muttered to himself as he brought the expensive drink to his lips, eyes gleaming dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, just 21 days and here I am againnnnnn~ 
> 
> Did you guys like it? Do leave some comments and tell me what you think! 
> 
> _I'm as surprised as any of you on the Fei Long/Yoh front!! Didn't think they'd come out this early..._ (;´・`) >
> 
> Comments, kudos, bookmarks, drop in and say hi? ♡
> 
> _/ 08 November 2018_


	11. I Know I'm Not The Only One

> _I’m yours for ever—for ever and ever._  
>  Here I stand;  
>  I’m as firm as a rock.  
>  If you’ll only trust me, how little you’ll be disappointed.  
>  _Be mine as I am yours._  
>  // Henry James

_**11/ I Know I’m Not the Only One** _

He decided against changing what he was wearing for the occasion. As a matter of fact, there would be more undressing than putting on clothes that will happen soon. _Would he want me to embrace him gently?_ He wondered as he tightened and redid his tie again for maybe the third time that evening ever since getting back to their suite. It was heavily guarded outside and since it featured more than a single bedroom, he naturally just got the room closest to the master bedroom.

He was standing near his dresser wondering if he should change. He was wearing his clean-cut suit that fit the right places thanks to the impeccable tailor masters in Hong Kong. He ran his hands on the front of his dark gray suit, the one he preferred over his other pieces as it was the most flexible to wear. He walked towards the shared living room space that were a few steps down in the center of the suite. 

It hasn’t been an hour yet from the last time he and Feilong talked and that was still back at Icon. They left soon after he was given the directive to find everything that he can about the drunk blond that seemed to have caught his eye. 

Yoh’s lips tightened in a line and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Yoh.” A voice called from inside the master bedroom. It was soft and muffled behind closed doors but like a trained hunting dog, when it came to this particular individual, he had the keenest sense for him no matter the situation. 

He turned, smoothed his jacket again, tugged the matching vest down and promptly rapped his knuckles on the door twice in the distinct staccato rhythm he had always used and opened the door, without waiting for the command to enter. 

The vision that presented himself on top of the chaise was one that made all breathing next to impossible. Feilong had changed and was now wearing a midnight blue robe with stark silver threads in the design of cranes on a pond. There were splashes of red on it and it made the flesh it covered stand out. 

The sharp intake of his breath, not quite a gasp, was quiet like his affections: _unheard and forcibly tempered down_. He willed himself to take a deep inhale as he turned his back and closed the door silently and firmly, locking it without a sound as was customary during these… _visits_  to the master of the house. 

“So proper, Yoh,” the voice behind him lilted in a sing-song manner, teasing yet was sardonic nonetheless. He couldn’t have heard the lock turn, he thought.

He faced the long-haired beauty that haunted him day and night. His stance still, unassuming, _waiting_. 

Waiting, always.

In a fluid motion that was entirely too enticing and sensual just to be called graceful, Liu Feilong got up from his sprawled position, unconsciously brushing his long hair away from his shoulders as he approached the small bar that came with the room. 

“Drink?”

“No, thank you, Feilong-sama.”

Sharp brown eyes cut across the room and gave a glare. “So _proper_ ,” he repeated. The voice this time was softer but menacing and dripped with sarcasm. 

Yoh battled with the need to assert his dominance as he silently and immovably waited. His tongue had more than enough patience than to bite out the words he wanted to retort back. He’d bide his time.

Ice cubes clinked together. A splash of the expensive Dalmore cut across the silence that filled the room. A swirl as ice clinked more. A gulp. A sigh. 

Yoh’s eyes drank everything in as he knew he was the only one privy to this side of Feilong. 

He held the Glencairn crystal glass with the customized gold rim near his lips. Yoh was still by the door, the hard-headed fool, waiting for a command. _His_ command. The thought made him frown. Feilong once again raised the glass and drank a mouthful of the aromatic liquor. 

Without turning or moving from his position, a shift took place. His shoulders lowered, dropping the title of ‘master’ and he called out once more, his stance a bit awkward but open. “Yo—“

Without finishing such a short, monosyllabic name, strong arms went around him from behind. He gave out an initial jerk, always taken aback with the speed and the incomparable way this man seemed to understand him without him saying anything.

“Took you long enough,” he murmured, bringing the glass back up to his lips. He relaxed even more into the embrace, giving his weight and leaning back to the strength surrounding him.

Yoh buried his face and nuzzled the side of Feilong’s neck. He heard the quiet exclamation and he let out a sound like a frustrated growl, hungry and impatient. He breathed in the scent that was like rain and liquor and lilies. He exhaled sharply as if afraid it’ll stay and haunt him. 

As if it already doesn’t.

Feilong tilted his head the other way, giving in to the other man’s nuzzling as Yoh always does this. They’d stay in an embrace until one of them gives in to move or to proceed… further. He heard the almost-beastly rumble Yoh gave out and a corner of his lips turned up, a shot of lightning traveling from his stomach down to his groin. 

Yoh was unconsciously wrapping his left hand and fingers in Feilong’s long, silky hair and grabbing them, pulling his head the way he wants to as he buried his nose to the fragrant length on the side of his neck, the front of the robe opening. _Rain_. He breathed in, closing his eyes as a hand went around to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. Fire lit up deep in his gut.  _Liquor_. Yoh licked his lips and as he was deeply nuzzling Feilong’s neck, he had inadvertently licked his neck, too. The other’s gasp only made him stroke his tongue long and languid on the skin he was in contact with. _Lilies_. Feilong breathed out his gasp shakily. He felt the firm, wet warmth at the side of his neck and he can’t help but bring the glass back to the bar top, shakily, clattering other bottles, as his knees buckled. He drew in another breath sharply as Yoh’s tongue traveled up to his jaw. 

Yoh grabbed Feilong’s hand from the bar and made him transfer all his weight to him as he stood even firmer, once again licking a path down from jaw to the side of Feilong’s neck. He could feel the other man’s give as more weight leaned on him, the back of Feilong’s head hooking to the side of his. 

“Should I fuck you like this or do you want to be tied up again?”

Feilong gave out a small sound at the quiet deep voice beside his ear, his right hand, grabbing more of the hair at the back of Yoh’s head, tugging at it. Both their fingers laced together and gripped tightly. 

“Tell me how you want it,” the demon seductively murmured. Feilong opened his eyes, surprised he had them closed. Another lick up towards his jaw made him shiver. “Come on, are you satisfied with just… this?” A hard length pressed on behind him as Yoh ground out his hips forward, while he brought their interlaced hands in front of him, pressing his body backwards. 

When Feilong remained quiet, Yoh gave out another impatient growl and hauled his master up and forcibly shoved him backwards on the bed. He was met with eyes that were lowered, brown eyes that were unsure. 

It made his blood sing. “Look at me.”

Feilong’s eyes snapped up to a dark gaze that held him captive. His eyes widened as Yoh started taking off his clothes with control, never breaking eye contact with him, first the coat, then the tie and then the vest. As Yoh tugged up at his dress shirt from his pants, Feilong’s eyes flew down and gasped at the bulge there. It took every inch of Yoh’s unmatched discipline not to rip buttons and clothes away as he started undoing one goddamned small button at a time.

As Feilong’s eyes glazed and followed his hands, the hard on he had started throbbing even more, so turned on as he was turning on the master he would soon have. 

“Like anything you see?”

Feilong’s eyes went up again to darker eyes, now warmer than it had been earlier. He licked his lips as his mouth was too dry. “I..” he swallowed audibly as Yoh took off his dress shirt, revealing a white tank underneath that was molded to a hard, lean body of muscles and scars. 

An eyebrow rose. The dress shirt dropped on the floor. Feilong followed each action and swallowed again.

“Take off your tank,” he said, his voice whisper soft in the quiet room. Their breathing almost amplified by both men’s silence.

“Look at me then,” Yoh challenged as his hands moved from the button of his pants to the edges of his tank. 

He waited a breath then another. When those warm brown eyes lifted to his and held him, he took the edges of his tank and pulled, ripping the fabric. The eyes widened and appreciated the gesture as the gaze he so wanted on him, drank its fill. 

Feilong licked his lips unconsciously, surveying the hardened body, full of sinew and scars. When it moved towards him, he moved backwards on the bed, making room for the other man.

“I’m not done,” Yoh said when he saw Feilong eyeing his body, now half-naked for him. “Should I take off my pants or should I take you now?”

Feilong shook his head, making some of the strands of his long hair fall on his face. “Undress completely first.” 

Yoh’s lips lifted into a smirk that made the otherwise stoic-looking man more sinister. “First, huh. You do something for _me_ first…” His voice playful. "I want you to make yourself comfortable and lie in the middle of the bed.”

The voice was low, soft, and so seductive, it made Feilong wonder which one’s the master between the both of them. Once he situated himself as was ordered, another was given, “Take off the sash of your robe.”

Chocolate brown eyes raised to dark ones. 

“Go on,” the voice coaxed soothingly. 

It irritated Feilong that his fingers were trembling while he undid the sash on his robe. He defiantly lifted his eyes to dark ones that were watching his every move as he pulled the sash free from his robe and dropped it at the side of the bed. 

“Good,” Yoh murmured. “Now, look at me, Feilong.” As soon as he heard his name without honorifics, his stomach muscles leapt and coiled. He took his time though. From Yoh’s impressive bulge going up towards well-deformed abs to scarred chest and arms, Feilong took his own sweet time and looked at everything that was presented in front of him. 

Yoh stalked the bed with a purpose. Once he was beside it, he took off the button of his pants and motioned to the man he would soon embrace. “Come over.”

When Feilong rose from his lying position, Yoh clicked his tongue twice in admonition. “Not that way, Feilong.”

Feilong shot him an indignant look.

Yoh looked back and waited. He was better at this waiting thing, so much better than the impatient master of Hong Kong. 

The other man huffed and glared back. After some time, he went on fours, the robe opening, exposing his naked figure and erect member. 

Yoh’s eyes didn’t miss anything. “Good. Now come here.” He said again, praising the man that ruled over him. 

When Feilong was close enough, he reached towards his chin, silently asking. The answer was swift as Feilong positioned his mouth over his crotch. Yoh brushed the hair off of Feilong’s face. Lips closed over cloth, teeth over a zipper. A tug then a pull, freeing him.

Yoh’s sharp inhale made Feilong’s insides sing and his own member leak precum. He nuzzled forward more, bringing his nose towards the erection nestled inside pants and breathed in. The scent was very much male, very much Yoh and sunsets and musk. 

A hand enclosed itself around his neck, bringing him up on his knees while a hungry mouth swooped in and started devouring him. Feilong whimpered into the kiss, wanting more of the man. Yoh growled low on his throat as a hesitant tongue touched his own.

“How do you want it?” Yoh asked harshly, his breathing hard as was Feilong’s as if they just came up for air, their foreheads touching, their lips swollen and wet from the long kiss they shared. 

“I..” Feilong started but was interrupted when Yoh kissed whatever part his lips can touch and reach. The corner of his mouth. “I-I want…” 

His cheek.   
His other cheek.  
By his ear.  
His temple.

“S-stop,” Feilong said weakly, his insides burning more with the number of kisses Yoh was showering him with.

“Do you…” Yoh kissed his temple again accentuating his question. “Really…” His lips can’t help itself from planting another on his forehead then cheek again. “Mean…” Yoh dragged his lips from his cheek to the corner of his mouth. “… _that?_ ” He asked, breathing with his mouth open while Feilong’s mouth unconsciously opened as well, their lips grazing.

“Nnngh,” Feilong kissed Yoh, his mouth open, his tongue desperate for contact, a need making his stomach muscles coil even more and burn. He can feel his naked thighs wet from his precum. 

Yoh wrenched his mouth away but kept his lips close to Feilong’s. “How do you want it?” 

When Feilong drew a shaky breath. “I w-want you h-hard and gentle.”

An eyebrow raised and he peeked at Feilong, appreciating the light pink dusting his face. “Hard and gentle,” he drawled out. The other man nodded, bringing more strands of his hair around them, enveloping both of them with its fragrant softness. 

He chuckled which made Feilong glanced at him with surprise, his brown eyes wide. “Y-yo—“

Yoh attacked Feilong’s lips with a mission, slanting their mouths, entangling their tongues together. “Hard and gentle, Feilong. You’ll have me however you wish.” He rumbled, his eyes twinkling, as he grabbed the back of Feilong’s head while his other hand gently stroked his face. He kissed Feilong’s lips. 

When Yoh reluctantly pulled away, a string of saliva glistened in between them. "God, I can’t stop kissing you.” He said in much wonder. 

Yoh’s eyebrows raised again at the blush Feilong gave while he shrugged off his pants and underwear and brought their bodies to the middle of the bed without taking off Feilong’s robe. He positioned himself in between Feilong’s legs, and grabbed an ankle. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he brought the leg up and started kissing it down. “Marks?”

Feilong swallowed, knowing what was asked of him. “W-where nobody can s-see.” A growl and Yoh started leaving marks on inner thighs where even Feilong himself couldn’t see them. 

“Limit?”

“Hngh!” Feilong exclaimed as another bright mark was sucked near four others. 

“Limit, Feilong.” Yoh demanded in a low voice. 

“None!” Feilong exclaimed in a half-yelp when Yoh enclosed his lips over Feilong’s scrotal sac. He sucked and kissed and licked while the other man squirmed and moaned. 

While the two proceeded to curb the fire in their gut, in another penthouse suite, a man took in everything that his vision can take as soon as he stepped inside the door, his eyes narrowing.

“Kami, call Kei. I want to meet with him in two hours. Push our meeting for tomorrow later. Question the guards who found the place this way.” Asami Ryuichi began ticking off orders as he surveyed his home or what was left of it.

“Asami-sama,” the giant bodyguard and friend said, his lips in a thin line.

“I’m walking my…” Asami struggled for a word but found none. “I’m walking... _this_ off lest I start killing your staff.”

Suoh shivered and bowed his head low knowing the fault was as much his as the guards’.

When Asami passed his friend still in a bow, he continued quietly. “This will not happen again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er... Surprise..? σ('_' ;)
> 
> First, let me apologize for any grammar errors in this story. Do comment and I'll recheck them. I've already caught some spelling discrepancies especially with Ryuichi-Ryuuichi and Feilong-Fei long. _I think you'll forgive me for that one, right?_
> 
> Second, no matter how long I take on this story, I promise I'll finish it. I _generally_ have an idea on how I want it to be but...... the characters are so... ngh. (╯•﹏•╰) For some reason, I'm thinking of other plots (which I have drafts on already) and other universes... 
> 
> In other news, I'm trying to recover from being sick so if the next update takes longer, _**PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME, K!!**_ (;´・`) >
> 
> I'm hoping to publish a couple more chapters before the year changes! (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑
> 
> Kudos, comments and whatever feedback are _always_ welcome ♡
> 
> _/ 30 November 2018 / GMT+9 0155H_


	12. Tell Me I'm Safe, You've Got Me Now

**_12/ Tell Me I'm Safe, You've Got Me Now_ **

Things were not going quite well for a certain man who prided himself successful since before he hit his 30s. To start with, after such a _long_  time, even when the feeling seemed _mutual_ , he was called from a most anticipated meeting alone with the boy he was attracted to at first glance — which was a miracle in itself as things were getting quite tedious lately. His lips thinned out into a sour line, remembering the phone call he had to do.

Second, and this really made him drink a long gulp of expensive liquor as it made such a foul taste impede at the back of his throat, he actually caught said boy-he-was-attracted-to-at-first-glance lying. _Lying,_  of all things! To _him!_  of all people! He took another swallow of the amber liquid, almost emptying the glass.

Further - to add salt and lemons to an open wound - he felt positively murderous because of previously mentioned scenario and the actual reason he was called away: discovering the place he called home ransacked and in tatters. The hard line of his mouth frowned deeper. Thus, he needed.. well, _wanted_ to kill someone over the trifecta of reasons stated, if only to expel his frustrations, of course.

Asami Ryuichi exhaled quietly. Neither going around the beautiful park near his building nor the almost six-kilometer walk he did in the last hour helped in quelling his anger.

He was now waiting for his right and left-hand men before he actually surveyed what was left of his penthouse suite. Right and left-hand men, huh, he thought sardonically. Who would've thought they'd last this long together.

“Ichi,” Suoh called out quietly. He turned his head to the giant who stood near the luxurious sitting area of his building’s shared space two floors below his suite, not bothering to avert his eyes from where he was looking. “Kei is on his way up.”

He turned his head back to gazing at the city view the sitting area was positioned at a good vantage point. Even if it was nearing 3 AM, the city lights of Tokyo still blazed brightly and alive. He put out the cigarette that seemed forgotten in his hand and stood up as soon as the elevator dinged the arrival of the one they were waiting for.

Other guards bowed low as Kirishima stepped off the elevator. “Sorry, I’m late. There was this drunk dancer—“

“Conference room.” Asami interrupted him. 

As soon as the three men entered the secured room of the building’s shared space, Asami sat on one side of the table, placed his now empty glass on it and promptly put his two hands on his forehead. 

Kirishima looked at Suoh, raising an eyebrow. Suoh shrugged and pointed to his mobile phone, indicating the same position the photo he had sent earlier. Kirishima’s eyebrow rose higher as that hunch by his neck was slowly taking shape. 

“Stop it with your silent conversations,” the seated man growled quietly to the room, not bothering to raise his head from its position. “We’re alone here so speak freely.”

“Ah,” Suoh said, feeling chastised. “I don’t want any of my staff killed, see..”

Asami scoffed that sounded like what could be a half-bark of a laugh or a snort. 

“Well, what happened now?” Kirishima lightly demanded, testing the waters as he headed to the stocked bar at the far corner of the room.

“Shiraishi,” Suoh laconically answered for the seated man which stopped Kirishima. He slowly turned around to face the two, his face saying it all. 

"I thought things ended with her..?"

There was a dragged out sigh.

"Exactly," Suoh again answered. 

"You're still doing it," the seated man growled again.

Suoh dropped his hands from gesturing and Kirishima turned around to complete his initial task of getting a drink. How Asami can always call out what the two were doing was uncanny. 

Once three drinks were fixed, Kirishima sat across from Asami while Suoh sat in between them. "So," the right-hand man started, savoring the burn of the nice whisky. "How did she get in and what has she done this time?"

Suoh took his glass and drank knowing Asami will stay silent as he wanted a report as well. He cleared his throat before he began what he had uncovered: “It was a front staff that was fairly new but she was familiar with. The staff cross-checked with my guys if he could send her up and since… ah, nobody knew you guys…er, broke up, they…naturally allowed it."

An eyebrow rose. Kirishima pushed his glasses up, his mouth in a grim line. Suoh started to feel sweat gathering by his neck. He cleared his throat again.

“Er, so... she was escorted—“

“Replace them.” One said quietly. “All those involved.” 

“Immediately.” Another confirmed.

Suoh took a larger swallow of his drink. He nodded. “Ah, well, so…after a couple of hours, the security feed showed she left the back way—”

“A couple of..”

“Hours?” Kirishima cut off Asami who was speaking softer and softer which always meant someone’s about to die or wish they would. “I need a list of all these personnel and everyone under you. I’ll retrain them.”

“Who..”

“Further,” Kirishima’s voice raised unnecessarily as he cut off Asami again. “We need to monitor whether there are bad apples among good ones. Who knows how Shinji ran his people, right?”

Asami suddenly raised his head this time and gave a glare to his two men. “If you two don’t stop with your silent conversation on top of the one we’re having, I swear to God..” He trailed off, looking at them pointedly. He nodded then continued. “Now that I can see both of your eyes, I’m not livid anymore.” 

Suoh’s mouth opened. Kirishima squirmed in his chair.

“I’m serious. I’m not angry. I actually find it quite funny,” Asami continued on lightly, looking at the liquid on the glass he held. “I mean, my fortress was invaded.. ah, no. Let me correct that. My fortress _welcomed_ an invasion. It practically let the intruder in and was even escorted! My possessions, as I’ve heard, trashed and my _home_  violated.” He took a swallow. “It’s positively _hilarious.”_

You know the feeling when something hot and uncomfortable start to creep its claws over your neck? Then it starts to get harder to breathe? The room felt like there were ten thousand of those claws all over. 

No one spoke or moved after Asami’s statement. In fact, the only thing that moved was the whisky in the glass he was twirling in his hand.

Thorns and nettles, that’s what Suoh was sitting on. 

Sand and paper, that’s what Kirishima’s throat felt like. 

Both were flushed as they felt highly criticized and in danger of being shot or worse. They knew they were partially responsible as personnel and protocols were their domain.

Asami stood up and they both flinched. He let out a chuckle. “Relax, I’m just getting the bottle. Both of your glasses are empty.”

As he turned to the bar, Suoh’s eyes were widened with fear mirroring Kirishima’s. They both remembered what happened in Taiwan. Kirishima unconsciously raised his hand to his now longer hair and looked at Suoh.

Their eyes said it all. Their eyes were screaming in horror.

_Oh, they’re in for it now._

\--

The bed creaked in protest. A strong grip of his legs further folded him in half. Feilong felt the thrust all the way up to his head, savoring the hard slap of Yoh’s body on his. “Ngh..!!”

Yoh licked collar bone to ear, his lower body grinding the body he was in further down. “Ah..hn-!!” 

“Can I bite you here?” He growled by Feilong’s neck, further grinding his pelvis forward until he heard a gasp. 

“Ah-ck! Yo-h!!” 

“What is it, Fei?” He rotated his pelvis with deliberate slowness which felt wonderful for him and quite excruciating to the man receiving the gesture.

“Ahhh, no…” Feilong’s head thrashed to the side, bringing wisps of hair all over them. He lifted the lower half of his body, trying to grind his own pelvis to Yoh. “I-I… Ah-!! I w-want..!”

“What do you want, Fei?” Yoh called his name again as he withdrew unhurriedly and slooowly which inflamed Feilong to Chinese curses. 

“I want you!!” He cried out, his arms reaching out to Yoh. 

Yoh let out a growl or a rumble and he withdrew all the way which earned a startled gasp from Feilong and slammed back home in one smooth movement. They both groaned in unison with how utterly delicious it felt. 

When the other man didn’t move as fast as he wanted, he decided to play with fire. “Harder, Yoh,” Feilong brought a finger to his lips and looked at the man above him underneath his lashes. “Or are you tired already? We can take a br—“

Yoh did the action once again: withdrawing all the way out and then slamming back home. The burn and pop of entering made him grit his teeth but he did it a couple more times just to shut Feilong up or hear the bed creak louder. 

Withdraw. “Aaahhh!!”  
Slam back in. “Hng..!!”

Withdraw. “Y-ye..”  
Pound back in. “..esss-!!”

Withdraw. “Ah!!”

Slam stronger back in. “Ngh-!!”

The bed gave out a crack raising its white flag. The sound only fueled the man on top even more, pushing thighs forward and grinding himself to the tight wet hole clenching all around him. 

“S-so..” A gasp. “Ng-good!!”

Yoh placed his hands on either side of Feilong’s head for better leverage, thrusting furiously. Feilong moaned at each movement, turning his head to Yoh’s left hand that was injured a couple of years ago in Hong Kong. He closed his eyes, savoring each thrust, each hard entry and he placed his lips near Yoh’s pulse on his wrist. He licked it and sank his teeth on to skin.

It promptly made Yoh stop and grind his pelvis forward, his groin wet and hot, twitching inside Feilong. “W-what are you doing?” He demanded in a hoarse voice, as he was preventing himself from making any type of sound while with Feilong.  

“Ah?” Feilong gave the bite he did another lick. “Just wanted to be sure your heart beats faster for me and only me, see..”

Yoh swooped down, grabbed Feilong’s neck as he was already raising his head and slanted their open mouths together, their tongues touching first. While the position made Feilong fairly uncomfortable with the bend, the close proximity, the scent of sunsets, and the hot length inside him twitching made his own heart beat faster while his mouth was filled with tongue and kisses and Yoh.

Just like that with skin damp with sweat, legs in an impossible angle, their tongues rubbing against each other, Yoh grinding on him made him jerk and come for like, the third? fourth? time that evening. 

Feilong moaned into the kiss, his breath soundly exhaling through his nose as Yoh felt something warm on his stomach and chest. The involuntary tight clenching of Feilong while he came made his own breath hitch. He pounded Feilong unto the bed a few more times, their lips locked together, Feilong raking his back with nails with each thrust, and that’s how Yoh came with a near-shout. 

Feilong laid his head back down breaking their kiss as he felt Yoh twitch and fill him with his come. He raised his pelvis a bit which made Yoh gasp and hold his hips hard, preventing him from moving. “Don’t you-“

Feilong’s eyes danced, his cheeks flushed, his mouth wet and open. He slowly looked at Yoh, chest heaving, mouth open, his abs and chest streaked with his come. His tongue gingerly felt his bottom lip and he gave Yoh a look. 

“Or what?”

A cheshire cat smile.

Yoh took that night until dawn to teach Feilong what  _what_ was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I succeed in making you guys laugh in that scene between Suoh, Kirishima and Asami? 
> 
> If I did, yay! _Level unlocked!_ If not, _please give me feedback why not! I'll work harder!_
> 
> ALSO! Guess what? It's less than a month til my birthday~  
> Anyway, it's ridiculously cold in Tokyo today! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this short chapter. (づ ￣ ³￣)づ
> 
> Kudos, comments and whatever feedback are always welcome ♡
> 
> _/ 07 December 2018 / GMT+9 0156H_


	13. Would You Take the Wheel If I Lose Control?

> And you’ll return to real life.  
>  You need to live it to the fullest.  
>  No matter how shallow and dull things might get, _this life is worth living_.  
>  _I guarantee it._  
>  // Haruki Murakami  

**_13/ Would You Take the Wheel If I Lose Control?_ **

Once Asami Ryuichi making them helplessly drunk was over, the three finally made their way up to the ransacked suite.

Kirishima Kei whistled when he saw Asami’s penthouse. “Ichi, are you  _sure_  you’re a good lay at least?” He said absentmindedly, seeing the chaos and disarray of the room. 

A dark eyebrow rose. Asami had his coat off and his sleeves rolled up as he was going through what seemed like the remnants of a typhoon: shredded clothes all over, battered furniture, broken appliances, and a generally pitiful-looking tattered room. 

It was surprising but hardly what he deserved, as he always made sure that when he does take up a partner, it’ll be just sex and sex only. Mutual enjoyment. He throws in a couple of expensive trinkets here and there but never promises or proposes of anything else except for bedroom activities. He always made sure both parties were fully satisfied, after all.

“How long was I going out with Mai?” Asami asked as he picked up one of the rare first edition books he collected that held pages now shredded in almost irregular paper confetti. A frown lined his mouth.

“Going half a year,” Suoh Kazumi called from the master’s bedroom, his glance surveying the chaos from the bed, or whatever was left of it, to the opened and thoroughly mangled closet.

Asami was muttering about not making third dates with anyone. “Kei, document this rubble and make sure Mai pays for renovations. If not, make her father pay for it. These are rare first edition books, dammit.” He snapped, picking another hard bound volume that looked thoroughly defiled.

Even before Asami’s instruction, Kirishima already had his mobile phone out and was photographing the penthouse section by section. Focusing on expensive damaged goods. “You really sure you’re a good lay? Like they tell you and stuff?”

Asami was just shaking his head, not rising to his friend’s baiting.

“Hey, Ichi?” Suoh called again, seeing the hidden door in the master’s bedroom opened. “Er… You may want to ask for added compensation. Like a lot more.”

Asami and Kirishima headed to the master’s bedroom, taking note of how the leather sofas were destroyed, the king-sized bed was in shambles and its lining and filling all pulled out. 

 _“Oh, hell, Ichi,”_ Kirishima said as they stepped into Asami’s ‘play room,’ seeing the rows of cabinets haphazardly opened, some halfway shut, others, off their hinges. “Weren’t your collection of…”

It seemed Asami’s dark eyebrow never eased down as he surveyed with cold eyes what happened to his hard-earned collection of whips, cuffs, and ropes. When he saw some red rope cut up in all sorts of lengths, he had to check his safe. 

“Scratch that. Schedule a dinner meeting with the honorable Justice Shiraishi.” Asami was thankful for the money he invested for the fireproof safe that looked scratched and banged but still intact. He keyed in his code. 

“At least she wasn’t able to access your safe,” Suoh said, picking up pieces and parts of leather whips. 

“Kami, his collection here in this pleasure dungeon is unlike any other,” Kirishima said, his voice strained and distraught. “It cost about two lifetimes worth of being a master Dom to create _this_ type of collection.” 

Suoh looked at him, curious. “Two lifetimes? So it’s about twenty million?”

“Not Japanese yen, you failed Keio degree holder,” Kirishima snapped. “Try Kuwaiti Dinar. Remember Ichi and that odd Kuwaiti prince Al-Ahmed and how he had that week-long vacation?” 

“What does Hiro have to do with this collection?” Suoh asked instantly remembering the striking rich prince. 

“Leave Hiroshi out of this conversation, Kei,” Asami said dismissively, locking his safe and taking inventory of the damage to his collection.

“Hiroshi Khaled Al-Ahmed is not only the richest of all Kuwait, Kami, but it’s been known among the circle of the.. ah, eccentrically-inclined that he’s the one who trained our very own friend here to _his_ preference.”

Ropes were all cut, canes were broken, cuffs were mangled, the leather well scratched, and even the whips and floggers looked sheared and cut in haste. Asami’s frown hardened. He sighed.

“Kei, Kami’s straight. He wouldn’t care for.. information like that.” 

“You know this, because..?” Suoh pinned Kirishima a stare that had green eyes looking away. 

When neither of his friends answered, he decided it wasn’t any of his business. “If the damage here is bigger than five million Japanese yen, shouldn’t you press charges, Ichi?”

“Oh, Kei will make sure I get my money and time’s worth out of this little tantrum from Mai.” Asami said lightly but his voice ended up chilling both men in the room with him. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to redesign the place. It was too.. plain. Too bad I’d have to trouble Hiro again, when I said I wouldn’t.”

“When would you want to go to Kuwait?” Kirishima immediately asked, opening his calendar application on his phone and checking their work schedule.

Asami seemed to be in thought. “Invite Hiro out to that island you like and free off a couple of days. I expect this room to be in the likeness of the images I’ll send to your email later tonight. Plus, congratulations, Kei, you’ll finally be head designer to a space you so wanted to renovate.” 

“Will you be joining Hiro or staying in Japan?” Kirishima said, fingers flying off his mobile. 

“I’ll join him for maybe two days out of the four. Why don’t you explore yourself with him, Kei,” Asami said, golden eyes twinkling as he challenged his right-hand man. “If you end up whole after two days with him, I’ll see you in a new light.”

Suoh was suddenly interested at the scarlet shade the usually stoic man was fighting off. 

“I want your Audi A5.” Kirishima raised his chin, his face steaming. 

Suoh whistled. “May I remind the room the last time _you_ bet against Ichi..” he started saying but was cut off with a hard glare from the green-eyed man.

Asami shrugged. “If Hiro ends up enamored with you, you do realize you can buy me and the whole of my corporation plus three other countries this side of the world, don’t you?”

Kirishima looked liked a boiled crab and flailed like one. 

Suoh laughed, out of place in the room, shaking his head. “I don’t get this 'Doms' or what you two are on about but I sure wouldn’t mind a soft, willing woman who can go rounds with me.”

Asami turned to his blond giant of a friend. Being half Japanese and half Brazilian made Suoh tall with mixed features, quite intimidating but attractive in his own way. “I’d like to keep you just as you are, Kami, all innocent and fluff.”

“F-fluff!?” Suoh sputtered. “I’m over 6’4”, Ichi!”

“Oh, I’ve had taller men down on their knees licking my shoes, Kami,” Kirishima snapped, waving off what Suoh just said. 

“Hiro’s right around that height.” Asami said, his golden eyes were laughing, an eyebrow raised challengingly.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. No, you don’t, Ichi,” Kirishima sputtered. “Daring me and handing me off to _your_ master is not going to happen.”

Asami shrugged. “Pity. I would’ve gotten a whole new collection for free.” He said looking again at his assaulted hard-earned collection. “Twice."

“Well, now. You’re worth _four_ lifetimes, Kei, you should be proud.” Suoh’s laughter bounced off the walls of the hidden room, so out of place that it made the other two men laugh heartily with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's good to see you again, yeah?
> 
> Thank you for the loooooooong waaaaaiiiiiiittttttttt ( ˘ ³˘)ﾉ⌒♡*:･。.
> 
> It's still an Asami-centered chapter after all those weeks of agonizing what's supposed to happen next. *grumble grumble*
> 
> Akihito's bound to come up next after incubating all that time.
> 
> Also, isn't Kirishima such a _queen?_
> 
> I hope you're still interested with how this'll go~ 
> 
> Even if it's not true, say you enjoyed this short chapter..? (づ ￣ ³￣)づ
> 
> Kudos, comments and whatever feedback are always welcome ♡
> 
> P.S. I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/girlwholovesred) if you're interested~ 
> 
> _/ 03 February 2019 / GMT+9 1808H_


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